Her hands in blood, and taught the sons of men
To make a death which Nature never made,
And God abhorred; with _violence_ rude to break
The thread of life ere half its length was run,
And rob a wretched brother of his being.
_Bishop Porteus._
VIRTUE.
Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever
things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are
lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any _virtue_,
and if there be any praise, think on these things.--Philippians, iv. 8.
Giving all diligence add to your faith _virtue_; and to _virtue_
knowledge.--II. Peter, i. 5.
Heaven doth with us as we with torches do;
Not light them for themselves: for if our _virtues_
Did not go forth of us, ’t were all alike
As if we had them not.
_Shakspere._
Tell faith it’s fled the city;
Tell how the country erreth;
Tell manhood, shakes of pity;
Tell _virtue_, least preferreth;
And if they do reply
Spare not to give the lie.
_Sir W. Raleigh._
--Walls of brass resist not
A noble undertaking--nor can vice
Raise any bulwark to make good a place
Where _virtue_ seeks to enter.
_Fletcher._
Eternal Spirit! Thou who think’st not scorn
To make thyself a lowly habitant
In the mean cottage of the human breast
When purity has been thy harbinger:
Come then, and lead the _virtues_ in Thy train;
Allot to each her office; ceaseless guard
Still let them bold around this earth-born heart,
And watch, with closest glance, its languid pulse.
_John Hey._
_Virtue_’s no _virtue_ whiles it lives secure;
When difficulty waits on ’t, then ’t is pure.
_John Quarles._
Yet sometimes nations will decline so low
From _virtue_, which is reason, that no wrong
But justice, and some fatal course annexed,
Deprives them of their outward liberty,
Their inward lost.
_Milton._
Life swarms with ills; the boldest are afraid;
Where, then, is safety for a tender maid?
Unfit for conflict, round beset with woes,
And man, whom least she fears, her worst of foes;
When kind, most cruel; when oblig’d the most,
The least obliging; and by favours lost.
Cruel by nature, they for kindness hate,
And scorn you for those ills themselves create:
If on your frame our sex a blot has thrown,
’Twill ever stick, through malice of your own.
Most hard! in pleasing your chief glory lies;
And yet from pleasing your chief dangers rise:
Then please the best; and know, for men of sense,
Your strongest charms are native innocence;
Arts on the mind, like paint upon the face,
Fright him that’s worth your love from your embrace,
In simple manners, all the secret lies;
Be kind and _virtuous_, you’ll be blest and wise.
_Young._
Our hearts ne’er bow but to superior worth,
Nor ever fail of their allegiance there;
Fools, indeed, drop the man in their account,
And vote the mantle into majesty.
Shall man be proud to wear his livery,
And souls in ermine scorn a soul without?
Can place or lessen us, or aggrandise?
Pigmies are pigmies still, though perched on hills,
And pyramids are pyramids in vales;
Each man makes his own stature, builds himself:
_Virtue_ alone outlives the pyramids;
Her monuments shall last when Egypt’s fall.
_Young._
I saw the _virtuous_ man contend
With life’s unnumbered woes;
And he was poor--without a friend,
Press’d by a thousand foes.
I saw the passion’s pliant slave
In gallant trim, and gay;
His course was pleasure’s placid wave,
His life a summer’s day.
And I was caught in folly’s snare,
And join’d her giddy train,
But found her soon the nurse of care
And punishment, and pain.
There surely is some guiding pow’r
Which rightly suffers wrong,
Gives vice to bloom its little hour,
But _virtue_ late and long.
_Camoens._
O Thou! by whose almighty nod the scale
Of empire rises, or alternate falls,
Send forth the saving _virtues_ round the land
In bright patrol: white peace and social love;
The tender-looking charity, intent
On gentle deeds, and shedding tears through smiles;
Undaunted truth, and dignity of mind:
Courage composed and keen; sound temperance,
Healthful in heart and look; clear chastity,
With blushes reddening as she moves along,
Disordered at the deep regard she draws;
Rough industry; activity untired,
With copious life informed, and all awake.
_Thomson._
_Virtue_ with peculiar charms appears
Crowned with the garland of life’s blooming years.
_Cowper._
While _virtue_ lends a zest to joy,
And bliss to rapture warms,
Our very tears she turns to smiles,
And every pang disarms.
But vice her foul circean cup
May medicate in vain:
E’en in her mirth some sorrow lurks,
In all her pleasures, pain.
Since this, with voice from heav’n, proclaims
That He that rules above,
Doth on the side of _virtue_ stand,
Let fear be lost in love.
_C. C. Colton._
Know thou this truth, (enough for man to know,)
_Virtue_ alone is happiness below.
_Pope._
_Virtue_, the strength and beauty of the soul,
Is the best gift of heaven: a happiness
That e’en above the smiles and frowns of fate
Exalts great nature’s favourites; a wealth
That ne’er encumbers, nor can be transferred.
Riches are oft by guilt and baseness earned,
Or dealt by chance to shield a lucky knave;
Or throw a cruel sunshine on a fool.
But for one end, one much neglected use,
Are riches worth your care: for nature’s wants
Are few, and without opulence supplied.
This noble end is to produce the soul;
To show the _virtues_ in their fairest light;
To make humanity the minister
Of bounteous Providence; and lend the breast
That generous luxury the Gods enjoy.
_Dr. Armstrong._
_Virtue_ in itself commands its happiness,
Of every outward object independent.
_Francis._
_Virtue_
Stands like the sun, and all which rolls around
Drinks life, and light, and glory, from her aspect.
_Byron._
The discipline of slavery is unknown
Among us,--hence the more do we require
The discipline of _virtue_; order else
Cannot subsist, nor confidence, nor peace--
Thus duties rising out of good possest,
And prudent caution needful to avert
Impending evil, equally require,
That the whole people should be taught and trained.
So shall licentiousness and black resolve
Be rooted out, and _virtuous_ habits take
Their place; and genuine piety descend
Like an inheritance, from age to age.
_Wordsworth._
VISIONS.
And God spake unto Israel in the _visions_ of the night.--Genesis,
xlvi. 2.
Now a thing was secretly brought to me, and mine ear received a little
thereof.
In thoughts from the _visions_ of the night, when deep sleep falleth on
men.--Job, iv. 12, 13.
Our revels now are ended: these our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air;
And, like the baseless fabric of this _vision_,
The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve;
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded
Leave not a rack behind!
_Shakspere._
_Visions_ and inspirations some expect
Their course here to direct.
Like senseless chemists, their own wealth destroy,
Imaginary gold to enjoy.
So stars appear to drop to us from the sky,
And gild the passage as they fly;
But when they fall, and meet the opposing ground,
What but a sordid slime is found!
_Cowley._
The days of old, in _vision_,
Bring vanish’d bliss to view,
The years of lost fruition
Their joys in pangs renew:
Remember’d songs of gladness,
Through night’s lone silence brought
Strike notes of deeper sadness
And stir desponding thought.
_J. Montgomery._
Such castles we build too, on life’s ocean rising
Frail phantoms of wishes the future disguising--
They meet us at eve when vague fancies are flowing,
But melt in thin air when the daylight is glowing,
Alas! could such _visions_ indeed be our own,
When approached and possessed, they would cease to delight--
But so long as they skirt the horizon’s dim zone,
They e’er seem enticing, empurpled, and bright!
_W. H. Leatham._
VOICE.
The _voice_ of the Lord is upon the waters, the God of glory thundereth.
The _voice_ of the Lord is powerful: the _voice_ of the Lord is full of
majesty.--Psalm xxix. 3, 4.
A fool’s _voice_ is known by multitude of words.--Ecclesiastes, v. 3.
The Lord shall cause his glorious _voice_ to be heard.--Isaiah, xxx. 30.
Let me Thy _voice_ betimes i’ the morning hear!
Call, and I’ll come; say Thou the when and where:
Draw me but first, and after Thee I’ll run,
And halt not once until my race be done.
_Herrick._
There seems a _voice_ in every gale,
A tongue in every opening flower,
Which tells, O God, the wondrous tale
Of Thy indulgence, love, and power:
The birds, that rise on quivering wing,
Appear to hymn their Maker’s praise,
And all the mingling sounds of Spring
To Thee a general anthem raise.
_Mrs. Opie._
There is a tongue in every leaf,--
A _voice_ in every rill;--
A _voice_ that speaketh everywhere,
In flood and fire, through earth and air!
A tongue that’s never still!
’Tis the Great Spirit, wide diffused
Through every thing we see,
That with our spirits communeth,
Of things mysterious--life and death,
Time and eternity.
_Miss Bowles._
The _voice_ of the Lord on the ocean is known,
The God of eternity thundereth abroad;
The _voice_ of the Lord from the depth of his throne
Is terror and power;--all nature is awed.
The _voice_ of the Lord through the calm of the wood
Awakens its echoes, strikes light through its caves;
The Lord sitteth King on the turbulent flood,
The winds are his servants, his servants the waves.
_J. Montgomery._
WAITING.
Lead me in thy truth, and teach me: for thou art the God of my
salvation; on thee do I _wait_ all the day.--Psalm xxv. 5.
_Wait_ on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine
heart: _wait_, I say, on the Lord.--Psalm xxvii. 14.
The Lord is a God of judgment: blessed are all they that _wait_ for
him.--Isaiah, xxx. 18.
The Lord direct your heart into the love of God, and into the patient
_waiting_ for Christ.--II. Thessalonians, iii. 5.
They also serve who only stand and _wait_.
_Milton._
How difficult the task to _wait_
For promises to be fulfilled,
To stand, and watch, and hope, though late
The coming glory be revealed.
To feel and know the sun will rise,
And patiently endure the night,
With eye of faith, through gloomy skies,
To see afar the dawning light.
Full many a fiery soul would dare
The scorn of man, the martyr’s stake,
Whose eager spirit could not bear,
Humbly to _wait_ for Jesu’s sake.
We ask for some great thing to do,
Some mighty, herculean task,
And always doubt that God is true,
Because he grants not what we ask.
We sow, and look to see the grain
Bend with its weight the golden ears;
We pray, and deem our prayers are vain,
Because in heaven no sign appears.
Oh, give to me the christian’s mind,
Neither depressed, nor yet elate,
If active service be assigned,
Or patiently to watch and _wait_,
And still a patient joy to find,
Whatever be my earthly state.
_Egone._
WALKING.
Enoch _walked_ with God.--Genesis, v. 24.
I will _walk_ before God in the land of the living.--Psalm cxvi. 9.
He that _walketh_ uprightly _walketh_ surely: but he that perverteth
his ways shall be known.--Proverbs, x. 9.
Can two _walk_ together, except they be agreed!--Amos, iii. 3.
O for a closer _walk_ with God,
A calm and heavenly frame,
A light to shine upon the road
That leads me to the Lamb.
Where is the blessedness I knew
When first I saw the Lord?
Where is the soul-refreshing view
Of Jesus and his word?
Return, O holy Dove! return,
Sweet messenger of rest!
I hate the sins that made thee mourn,
And drove thee from my breast.
The dearest idol I have known,
Whate’er that idol be,
Help me to tear it from thy throne,
And worship only thee.
So shall my _walk_ be close with God,
Calm and serene my frame;
So purer light shall mark the road
That leads me to the Lamb.
_Cowper._
Delightful record! Enoch _walked_ with God:
How great his happiness sublime and pure!
Here all is excellence--all solid bliss,
And all of heaven that can be found below.
O, while I dwell a sojourner on earth,
With steadfast purpose may I _walk_ with God!
And though I cannot shun the gates of death,
I soon shall triumph in immortal peace.
_Joseph Jones._
WANDER.
Thou tellest my _wanderings_: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are
they not in thy book?--Psalm lvi. 8.
Thus saith the Lord unto this people, Thus have they loved to _wander_,
they have not refrained their feet, therefore the Lord doth not accept
them.--Jeremiah, xiv. 10.
The rolling planets, and the glorious sun,
Still keep that order which they first begun;
They their first lesson constantly repeat,
Which their Creator, as a law, did set,
Above, below, exactly all obey:
But wretched men have found another way.
Knowledge of good and evil as at first
(That vain persuasion) keeps them still accurst.
The sacred word refusing as a guide,
Slaves they become to luxury and pride,
As clocks remaining in the skilful hand
Of some great master, at the figure stand,
But, when abroad, neglected they do go,
At random strike, and the false hour do show;
So from our Maker _wandering_ we stray,
Like birds that know not to their nests the way.
In Him we dwelt before our exile here,
And may, returning, find contentment there,
True joy may find, perfection of delight,
Behold His face, and shun eternal night.
_Waller._
O Lord, my God, I _wandered_ have
As one that runs astray,
And have in thought, and word, and deed,
In idleness and play,
Offended sore Thy Majesty
In heaping sin to sin,
And yet Thy mercy hath me spared,
So gracious hast Thou been!
O Lord, my faults I now confess,
And sorry am therefore;
But not so much as fain I would:
O Lord, what wilt Thou more?
_Wm. Hunnis._
WANT.
For _want_ and famine they were solitary.--Job, xxx. 3.
That which is _wanting_ cannot be numbered.--Ecclesiastes, i. 15.
Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found _wanting_.--Daniel, v.
27.
_Want_ is a bitter and hateful good,
Because its virtues are not understood.
Yet many things, impossible to thought,
Have been, by need, to full perfection brought.
Sharpness of wit, and active diligence;
Prudence at once, and fortitude it gives,
And, if in patience taken, mends our lives;
For even that indigence that brings me low,
Makes me myself, and Him above, to know.
_Dryden._
Lord, grant, oh grant me thy compassion,
For I in thee my trust have placed;
Display thy wings for my salvation,
Until my griefs are overpast.
To thee I sue, oh God most high,
To thee that canst all _want_ supply.
_George Wither._
On God for all events depend;
You cannot _want_ when God’s your friend.
Weigh well your part, and do your best;
Leave to your Maker all the rest.
The hand which formed thee in the womb,
Guides from the cradle to the tomb.
_Cotton._
Father, ’tis thine each day to yield
Thy children’s _wants_ a fresh supply;
Thou cloth’st the lilies of the field,
And hearest the young ravens cry;
On thee we cast our care, we live
Through thee, who know’st our every need,
O feed us with thy grace, and give
Our souls this day the living bread!
_J. Wesley._
WAR.
Come behold the works of the Lord:
He maketh _wars_ to cease unto the end of the earth; he breaketh the
bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder; he burneth the chariot in the
fire.--Psalm xlvi. 8, 9.
They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into
pruning hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither
shall they learn _war_ any more.--Isaiah, ii. 4.
From whence come _wars_ and fightings among you? come they not hence,
even of your lusts that _war_ in your members?--James, iv. 1.
O _war_, thou son of hell,
Whom angry heavens do make their minister!
_Shakspere._
O, shame to men, devil with devil damned
Firm concord holds, men only disagree
Of creatures rational, though under hope
Of heavenly grace, and God proclaiming peace,
Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife
Among themselves, and levy cruel _wars_,
Wasting the earth, each other to destroy;
As if, (which might induce us to accord,)
Man had not hellish foes enough besides,
That day and night for his destruction wait.
_Milton._
Rash, fruitless _war_, from wanton glory wag’d
Is only splendid murder.
_Thomson._
O _war_!--what, what art thou?
At once the proof and scourge of man’s fall’n state?
After the brightest conquest, what appears
Of all thy glories? for the vanquish’d chains!
For the proud victors, what? alas! to reign
O’er desolated nations!
_Hannah More._
_War_, horrid _war_! oh! would ye understand
That direful word--that scourge of every land,
Oh! then peruse the well-known leaves that time
Himself hath traced in characters sublime:
Consult the archives of many a vast domain
Where pomp, and power, and crime once held their reign,
And view with retrospective eye
Th’ Imperial States whose awful destiny
It was to fade, decay, and disappear,
With scarce a trace to say “We once were here!”
Yet _wars_ and battles mark’d their passing day
With strife tumultuous, and wild affray.
_Count Frederick Von Erlach._
The Son of God goes forth to _war_,
A kingly crown to gain;
His blood red banner streams afar,--
Who follows in his train?
Who best can drink his cup of woe,
Triumphant over pain;
Who patient bears his cross below,
He follows in his train.
The martyr first, whose eagle eye
Could pierce beyond the grave;
Who saw his Master in the sky,
And called on Him to save.
Like him, with pardon on his tongue,
In midst of mortal pain,
He prayed for them who did the wrong,--
Who follows in his train?
A glorious band, the chosen few
On whom the Spirit came!
Twelve valiant saints, their hopes they knew,
And mocked the cross and flame.
They met the tyrant’s brandished steel,
The lion’s gory mane;
They bow’d their necks the death to feel,--
Who follows in their train?
A noble army--men and boys,
The matron and the maid,
Around their Saviour’s throne rejoice,
In robes of light array’d,
They climbed the steep ascent of Heaven,
Through peril, toil, and pain;
O God, to us may grace be given,
To follow in their train!
_Bishop Heber._
Secure from actual _warfare_, we have loved
To swell the _war_-whoop, passionate for _war_!
Alas! for ages ignorant of all
Its ghastlier workings, famine, or blue plague,
Battle or siege, or flight through wintry snows!
We, this whole people, have been clamorous
For _war_ and bloodshed; animating sports,
The which we pay for as a thing to talk of;
Spectators and not combatants! No guess
Anticipative of a wrong unfelt,
No speculation or contingency,
However dim and vague, too vague and dim
To yield a justifying cause; and forth,
Stuffed out with big preamble, holy names
And adjurations of the God in heaven,
We send our mandates for the certain death
Of thousands and ten thousands! Boys and girls,
And women that would groan to see a child
Pull off an insect’s leg, all read of _war_,
The best amusement for our morning’s meal!
The poor wretch who has learnt his only prayer
From curses, who knows scarcely words enough
To ask a blessing from his heavenly Father,
Becomes a fluent phraseman, absolute
And technical in victories and defeats,
And all our dainty terms for fratricide;
Terms which we trundle smoothly o’er our tongues
Like mere abstractions, empty sounds, to which
We join no feeling, and attach no form!
As if the soldier died without a wound;
As if the fibres of this godlike frame
Were gored without a pang; as if the wretch
Who fell in battle, doing bloody deeds,
Passed off to heaven, translated, and not killed;
As though he had no wife to pine for him,
No God to judge him.
_Coleridge._
Of all the murderous trades by mortals plied,
’Tis _war_ alone that never violates
The hallowed day by simulate respect--
By hypocritic rest; no, no, the work proceeds,
From sacred pinnacles are hung the flags
That give the sign to slip the leash for slaughter,
The bells whose knoll a holy calmness poured
Into the good man’s breast, whose sound consoled
The sick, the poor, the old--perversion dire!
Pealing with sulphurous tongue, speak death-fraught words.
From morn to eve destruction revels frenzied,
Till at the hour when peaceful vesper chimes
Were wont to sooth the ear, the trumpet sounds
Pursuit, and flight altern; and for the song
Of larks descending to their grass-bowered homes,
The croak of flesh-gorged ravens, as they slake
Their thirst in hoof-prints filled with gore, disturbs
The stupor of the dying man; while death
Triumphantly sails down the ensanguined stream,
On corses, throned and crowned with shivered boughs,
That erst hung imaged in the crystal tide.
_Grahame._
When _war_ the demon lifts his banner high
And loud artillery rends the affrighted sky;
Swords clash with swords, on horses horses rush,
Man tramples man, and nations nations crush,
Death his vast scythe with sweep enormous wields;
And shuddering pity quits the ensanguined fields.
_Dr. Darwin._
How like a fiend may man be made,
Plying the foul and monstrous trade
Whose harvest-field is human life,
Whose sickle is the reeking sword!
Quenching, with reckless hands in blood,
Sparks kindled by the breath of God.
_J. G. Whittier._
Such is _war_!
O heavens! when will the spiritual Sun arise,
And with His beams effulgent, drive away
The mists of error that so long have hung
Their dark, unnatural drapery o’er the mind,
That broods o’er human carnage! when will man
Turn from the path of Cain, and learn to see
A brother without hating?
_Rufus Dawes._
WATCHING.
_Watch_ and pray, that ye enter not into temptation.--Matthew, xxvi. 41.
What I say unto you I say unto all, _Watch_.--Mark, xiii. 37.
If therefore thou shalt not _watch_, I will come on thee as a thief,
and thou shalt not know what hour I will come upon thee.--Rev. iii. 3.
The towers of heaven are filled
With armed _watch_, that render all access
Impregnable.
_Milton._
Faithful soul, pray always; pray,
And still in God confide;
He thy feeble step shall stay,
Nor suffer thee to slide;
Lean on thy Redeemer’s breast;
He thy quiet spirit keeps,
Rest in him, securely rest;
Thy _Watchman_ never sleeps.
Neither sin, nor earth, nor hell,
Thy keeper can surprise;
Careless slumbers cannot steal
On his all-seeing eyes;
He is Israel’s sure defence;
Israel all his care shall prove,
Kept by _watchful_ providence,
And ever-wakeful love.
_C. Wesley._
_Watch_ o’er my lips, and guard them, Lord,
From ev’ry rash and heedless word;
Nor let my feet incline to tread
The guilty path where sinners lead.
_Watts._
In time of tribulation,
Hear, Lord, my feeble cries;
With humble supplication,
To thee my spirit flies;
My heart with grief is breaking,
Scarce can my voice complain:
Mine eyes, with tears kept waking,
Still _watch_ and weep in vain.
_J. Montgomery._
WATER.
He hath compassed the _waters_ with bounds, until the day and night
come to an end.--Job, xxvi. 10.
Thus saith the Lord, when thou passest through the _waters_, I
will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow
thee.--Isaiah, xliii. 1, 2.
Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the _waters_.--Isaiah, lv. 1.
Ho! every one that thirsts, draw nigh,
(’Tis God invites a fallen race;)
Mercy and free salvation buy;
Buy wine, and milk, and gospel grace.
Come to the living _waters_, come!
Sinners, obey your Maker’s call;
Return, ye weary wanderers home,
And find my grace is free for all.
See from the Rock a fountain rise,
For you, in healing streams, it rolls;
Money ye need not bring, nor price,
Ye labouring, burden’d, sin-sick souls.
_C. Wesley._
Come hither ye that thirst,
Come to the _waters_ free,
With a blithesome bound and a joyful burst,
Like a bird in its liberty.
Drink at this holy spring,
That flows for ever bright,
Oh, hasten in faith! make wing, make wing,
’Tis a well of sweet delight.
This living _water_ flows
Not heedlessly, nor vain;
Drink, it a fountain of life bestows,
Ye never can thirst again.
Man’s heart, that barren place,
Shall blossom like the rose,
Grow fertile in love, and abound in grace,
Wherever that _water_ flows.
And every plant shall show
Clusters of goodly fruit,
While all who gaze, in delight may know,
That Christ is at its root.
What fruit each plant may bring,
Is his, and only his;
For He the lovely and constant spring
Of living _water_ is.
_W. Martin._