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The angel wrote, and vanished. The wat -again, - great wakening light. and shewd the names whom love of god and beard, And lo: Ben Adhem's name lid all the vest
Here on this blesse Thanksging Night,
Then why, O blessed Jesus Christ,
Should I not love thee well ? Not for the hope of winning heaven,
Nor of escaping hell !
Not seeking a reward ;
O everlasting Lord !
THE NEW JERUSALEM.
E'en so I love thee, and will lore,
And in thy praise will sing, Solely because thou art my God, And my eternal King. ST. FRANCIS XAVIER (Latin). Translation
of EDWARD CASWELL.
O MOTHER dear, Jerusalem,
When shall I come to thee?
Thy joys when shall I see?
O sweet and pleasant soil !
Nor grief, nor care, nor toil.
Nor gloom, nor darksome night;
For God himself gives light. Thy walls are made of precious stone,
Thy bulwarks diamond-square,
O God ! if I were there !
Thy joys when shall I see ?-
And thy felicity ?
IF as a flowre doth spread and die,
Thou wouldst extend me to some good, Before I were by frost's extremitie
Nipt in the bud, The sweetnesse and the praise were thine ;
Put the extension and the room Which in thy garland I should fill were mine
At thy great doom.