Whit-Sunday

What gleam of later times hath e'er resembled
The glory of that Pentecostal day,
When, ' in one place with one accord' assembled,
Christ's infant Church knelt down, to watch and pray?
One in the faith and earnest expectation
Of the great promise of all-guiding grace,
One in the bright and blessed revelation
Of God's full love, and reconciled face.

Sudden there came a sound from out of Heaven,
'As of a rushing mighty wind,' which filled
The house; — and to its inmates God had given
The grace to do whatever He had willed.
They knelt — how few! how weak! yet O how glorious
In that surpassing unity of faith!
They rose — endowed with power to be victorious
Over all might of sin, and hell, and death.

And ' tongues like as of fire' play'd lambent o'er them,
With sacramental promise sealing each,
The presence of their Saviour to restore them,
Kindle with love, and touch with fire their speech.
One tongue alone their mission-work had bounded
To that one soil they had from childhood trod,
But now all nations, in amaze confounded,
Hear them tell forth the wondrous works of God.

From every shore, and clime, and tongue, and nation,
Diverse in speech, tho' in pursuit the same,
'Devout men,' met in that great congregation,
Hear His young Church her Saviour's love pro- claim,—
And with her first-fruit offerings adore Him,
Faint earnest of the triumphs of His Word,
While angels joy to see her lay before Him
'Three thousand souls,' all ' added to the Lord.'

Where is the glory, once so glad and golden,
That bless'd the Church of God in early days,
Hath He in wrath Himself from her withholden,
Stay'd all her triumphs, hush'd her hymns of praise?
Where is the promise of that wide dominion
To be subdued beneath the conquering Cross!
Where the bright leading of that dove-like pinion,
Which, ever followed, never led to loss I

We have not, for we ask not, and our sorrow
Will not suffice to bring us back to peace,
Nor ever shall we know a brighter morrow,
Till faith toward God, and love to man increase.
Send down O Lord, send down Thy Holy Spirit,
To fill our hearts, and lead our steps above,
That we may toil for that which we inherit,
The kingdom of Thy glory and Thy love.

Give us the splendour of those golden ages,
Such unity of heart and faith, that we
May quench with love the battle-fire that rages
In this rude world, 'gainst truth, and peace, and
Thee.