Septuagesima Sunday

As with gentle modulation
Chords of music melt and flow
Down from strains of exultation
Into plaintive notes of woe:

As with soft and tender shading
Farewell beams of parting day
O'er the evening landscape fading,
Into twilight die away: —

So the Church's songs of gladness
Change their key to heart and ear —
So steals on with sober sadness
The dim twilight of her year.

Late her Saviour Lord's appearing
Filled each heart and swelled each strain,
Now the solemn time is nearing
When He passes into pain.

Late, tho' round a lowly manger,
Angels sang and glory shone,
Now He passes into danger,
In the wilderness alone:

And His Church with fond affection
Bids her children all prepare
To partake of His dejection
Low in penitence and prayer.

Lord, our souls and bodies render
Meet to watch and kneel and pray
By Thy love, so true and tender,
All thro' that long battle- day.

Grant us that instinctive yearning
Which the Christian's soul doth move,
To be ever near Thee, learning
The deep secrets of Thy love.

And, tho' i justly our offences,'
Shut us out from joy and Thee,
Keep us near Thee, for from thence is
All the light our souls can see:

Keep us near Thee, in thy fasting,
In Thy peril and Thy pain;
That, our garland everlasting
Running c so/ we ' may obtain."