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1. AARON Atoning.
See Aaron, God's anointed priest, Within the veil appear,
In robes of mystic meaning dressed, Presenting Israel's prayer.
The plate of gold which crowns his brows His holiness describes ;
His breast displays in shining rows The names of all the tribes.
With the atoning blood he stands Before the mercy-seat;
And clouds of incense from his hands Arise with odor sweet.
Urim and Thummim near his heart, In rich engravings worn, The sacred light of truth impart, To teach and to adorn.
Through him the eye of faith descries, A greater priest than he- Thus Jesus pleads above the skies For you, my friends, and me.
He bears the names of all the saints, Deep on His heart engraved; Attentive to the state and wants Of all His love has saved.
In Him a holiness complete, Light and perfection shine; And wisdom, grace, and glory meet- A Saviour all divine.
The blood which, as a priest, He bears, For sinners, is His own; The incense of His prayers and tears Perfumes the holy throne.
In Him my weary soul has rest, Though I am weak and vile; I read my name upon His breast, And see the Father smile.
Almighty wisdom; Nature's happy cares The obedient heart far otherwise incline. Witness the sprightly joy when aught un- known
[power Strikes the quick sense, and wakes each active To brisker measures: witness the neglect Of all familiar prospects, though beheld With transport once; the fond attentive gaze Of young astonishment; the sober zeal Of age, commenting on prodigious things, For such the bounteous providence of Heaven, In every breast implanting this desire Of objects new and strange, to urge us on With unremitted labor to pursue Those sacred stores that wait the ripening In Truth's exhaustless bosom. [soul,
5. ABILITIES, Difference of. Alas! what differs more than man from man! And whence this difference?-whence but from himself?
For, see the universal race endowed [fixed, With the same upright form! The sun is And the infinite magnificence of heaven, Within the reach of every human eye: The sleepless ocean murmurs in all ears; The vernal field infuses fresh delight Into all hearts. Throughout the world Even as an object is sublime or fair, That object is laid open to the view Without reserve or veil; and as a power Is salutary, or its influence sweet, Are each and all enabled to perceive That power, that influence, by impartial law. Gifts nobler are vouchsafed alike to all ;- Reason,—and, with that reason, smiles and Imagination, freedom of the will, [tears; Conscience to guide and check; and death To be foretasted-immortality presumed. Strange then, nor less than monstrous might be deemed
The failure, if the Almighty, to this point Liberal and undistinguishing, should hide The excellence of moral qualities From common understanding; leaving truth And virtue, difficult, abstruse, and dark; Hard to be won, and only by a few: Strange, should he deal herein with nice respects,
And frustrate all the rest! Believe it not: The primal duties shine aloft like stars; The charities, that soothe, and heal, and bless, Are scattered at the feet of man, like flowers. The generous inclination, the just rule, Kind wishes, and good actions, and pure thoughts-
No mystery is here; no special boon For high and not for low-for proudly [graced
And not for meek in heart.
6. ABILITIES, Mistaken.
It happen'd when a plague broke out, (Which therefore made them more devout,) The king of brutes (to make it plain, Of quadrupeds I only mean)
By proclamation gave command,
That every subject in the land Should to the priest confess their sins. And thus the pious Wolf begins:
Good father, I must own with shame, That often I have been to blame, I must confess, on Friday last, Wretch that I was! I broke my fast: But I defy the basest tongue To prove I did my neighbor wrong; Or ever went to seek my food, By rapine, theft, or thirst of blood."
The Ass approaching next, confess'd, That in his heart he loved a jest: A wag he was, he needs must own, And could not let a dunce alone: Sometimes his friend he would not spare, And might perhaps be too severe : But yet the worst that could be said, He was a wit both born and bred; And, if it be a sin and shame, Nature alone must bear the blame.
One fault he has, is sorry for 't, His ears are half a foot too short; Which could he to the standard bring, He'd show his face before the king: Then for his voice, there's none disputes That he's the nightingale of brutes.
The swine with contrite heart allow'd His shape and beauty made him proud: In diet was perhaps too nice, But gluttony was ne'er his vice: In every turn of life content, And meekly took what fortune sent: Inquire through all the parish round, A better neighbor ne'er was found; His vigilance might some displease; 'Tis true he hated sloth like pease. Apply the tale, and you shall find How just it suits with human kind. Jonathan Swift.
7. ABRAHAM, The Sacrifice of
It was noonAnd Abraham on Moriah bowed himself
And buried up his face and prayed for strength.
He could not look upon his son, and pray; But with his hand upon the clustering curls Of the fair, kneeling boy, he prayed that God Would nerve him for that hour.
Sunk to the still proportions, they betray'd The matchless symmetry of Absalom. His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curls Were floating round the tassels as they sway'd To the admitted air, as glossy now As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing The snowy fingers of Judea's daughters. His helm was at his feet: his banner, soil'd With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid, Reversed, beside him: and the jewell'd hilt, Whose diamonds lit the passage of his blade, Rested, like mockery, on his cover'd brow. The soldiers of the king trod to and fro, Clad in the armor of battle; and their chief, The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier, And gazed upon the dark pall steadfastly, As if he fear'd the slumberer might stir. A slow step startled him. He grasped his blade
As if a trumpet rang; but the bent form Of David enter'd, and he gave command, In a low tone, to his few followers, And left him with his dead. The king stood Till the last echo died; then throwing off The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back The pall from the still features of his child, He bow'd his head upon him, and broke forth In the resistless eloquence of woe: "Alas! my noble boy! that thou shouldst die! Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair! That death should settle in thy glorious eye, And leave his stillness in this clustering hair!
How could he mark thee for the silent tomb! My proud boy, Absalom!
Cold is thy brow, my son! and I am chill, As to my bosom I have tried to press thee! How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill, Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, [dumb And hear thy sweet my father!' from these And cold lips, Absalom!
But death is on thee, I shall hear the gush Of music, and the voices of the young: And life will pass me in the mantling blush, And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung; But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shall To meet me, Absalom!
And oh when I am stricken, and my heart, Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, How will its love for thee, as I depart, Yearn for thine car to drink its last deep token. [gloom, It were so sweet, amid death's gathering To see thee, Absalom!
And now, farewell! 'tis hard to give thee up, With death so like a gentle slumber on thee; And thy dark sin!-Oh! I could drink the cup,
If from this woe its bitterness had won thee. May God have call'd thee, like a wanderer, My lost boy, Absalom!" [home He covered up his face, and bowed himself
A moment on his child: then, giving him A look of melting tenderness, he clasped His hands convulsively, as if in prayer; And, as if strength were given him from God, He rose up calmly, and composed the pall Firmly and decently-and left him there- As if his rest had been a breathing sleep. Nathaniel Parker Willis.
10. ABSENCE, Improvement of.
What shall I do with all the days and hours That must be counted ere I see thy face? How shall I charm the interval that lowers Between this time and that sweet time of grace?
Shall I in slumber steep each weary sense, Weary with longing? Shall I flee away Into past days, and with some fond pretence Cheat myself to forget the present day? Shall love for thee lay on my soul the sin
Of casting from me God's great gift of time?
Shall I, these mists of memory locked within, Leave and forget life's purposes sublime?
O, how or by what means may I contrive To bring the hour that brings thee back more near?
How may I teach my drooping hope to live
Until that blessed time, and thou art here? I'll tell thee; for thy sake I will lay hold
Of all good aims, and consecrate to thee, In worthy deeds, each moment that is told While thou, beloved one! art far from me. For thee I will arouse my thoughts to try All heavenward flights, all high and holy strains;
For thy dear sake I will walk patiently Through these long hours, nor call their minutes pains.
I will this dreary blank of absence make A noble task-time; and will therein strive To follow excellence, and to o'ertake
More good than I have won since yet I live. So may this doomed time build up in me A thousand graces, which shall thus be
11. ABSENCE, Similes of.
A boat at midnight sent alone To drift upon the moonless sca, A lute, whose leading chord is gone, A wounded bird, that hath but one Imperfect wing to soar upon,
Are like what I am, without thee! Thomas Moore.
12. ABSTINENCE, Battle of Stand up for the cold-water fight
'Gainst doctor and lawyer and priest; Stand up and do battle for right
'Gainst foes from the West or the East; 'Gainst foes from the North and the South; 'Gainst foes from above or beneath; Speak out every man with a mouth
The watchword of "FREEDOM OR DEATH!"
Away with your "moderate" drink!
Your infamous pleading for wine! The tempter that lures to the brink
Of perdition! The demon malign! The treacherous, venomous thing
That blushes and laughs in the bowl! The mocker! The adder whose sting Strikes mortal through body and soul! George Lansing Taylor.
13. ABSTINENCE, Habit of
And every joy He sends me comes as a sweet and glad surprise.
I see not a step before me as I tread the days of the year,
But the past is still in God's keeping, the future His mercy shall clear, And what looks dark in the distance, may brighten as I draw near.
For perhaps the dreaded future has less bit terness than I think,
The Lord may sweeten the water before I stoop to drink.
Or, if Marah must be Marah, He will stan 1 beside its brink.
It may be there is waiting for the coming of my feet,
Some gift of such rare blessedness, some joy so strangely sweet
That my lips can only tremble with the thanks I cannot speak.
O restful, blissful ignorance! 'Tis blessed not to know,
It keeps me quiet in those arms which will not let me go,
And hushes my soul to rest on the bosom which loves me so.
That monster, Custom, who all sense doth So I go on not knowing. I would not if I
Of habit's devil, is angel yet in this : That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock, or livery That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night; And that shall lend a kind of easiness
14. ABSTINENCE, Labor for. Wait, abstainers, every year Vindicates the glorious plan, Time rewards each pioneer
Who clears a higher path for man.
Faster, faster, true men gather
Round the standard all unfurled, Youthful son and hoary father
Haste to bear it round the world.
15. ABSTINENCE, Resolution of. Thou sparkling bowl! thou sparkling bowl! Though lips of bards thy brim may press, And eyes of beauty o'er thee roll,
And songs and dance thy power confessI will not touch thee; for there clings A scorpion to thy side that stings.
16. ACQUIESCENCE, Confiding.
I know not what will befall me! God hangs a mist o'er my eyes,
And o'er each step of my onward path He makes new scenes to rise,
I would rather walk on in the dark with God, than go alone in the light;
I would rather walk with Him by faith than walk alone by sight.
My heart shrinks back from trials which the future may disclose,
Yet I never had a sorrow but what the dear Lord chose;
So I send the coming tears back, with the whispered word "He knows."
17. ACQUIESCENCE, Entire.
To do, or not to do; to have, Or not to have, I leave to Thee; To be, or not to be; I leave, Thy only will be done in me! All my requests are lost in one, "Father, Thy only will be done! "
Welcome alike the crown or cross, Trouble I cannot ask nor peace, Nor toil, nor rest; nor gain, nor loss; Nor joy, nor grief; nor pain, nor ease; Nor life, nor death; but ever groan, Father, Thy only will be done!" Charles Wesley.
18. ACTION, Appointment of. What are we set on earth for? Say, to toilNor seek to leave thy tending of the vines, For all the heat o' day, till it declines, And Death's mild curfew shall from work assoil.
God did anoint thee with His odorous oil, To wrestle, not to reign; and He assigns
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