St. John Baptist's Nativity

In every Christian home on earth
A little church is found,
A type and part of that great whole
Which circles all around.

There the domestic altar stands,
In honour of the Lord,
Where generations, past and gone,
From childhood have adored.

And there the father, God's high-priest,
In grateful worship pays
Morning and evening sacrifice
Of daily prayer and praise.

There sins are mourn'd, there joy and peace
To the repentant come:
God hath on earth no holier spot,
Than is a Christian home.

And they, who use it rightly, feel
Id every common hour,
And every simplest deed, and word,
Its elevating power.

They eat and drink in Jesu's name,
By Him are daily fed,
Half sacramental deem the food,
He gives as ' daily bread.'

And feasts and fasts devoutly keep,
On days ordain'd by Heaven;
The birth-days, and the death-days of
The children God hath given.

Remote in distant years of time,
When home is far away,
And all are dead and gone, that kept
With them each festal day,

They will, in dreams, live o'er again
Those lov'd but vanished hours,
And breathe once more, as if still fresh,
The incense of their flowers.

The birth-days of a Christian home
Are festivals of love,
Which shed their glow on life below,
And train for i life ' above.

Soft, as the dews of Heaven, they fall
Upon the human heart,
Old memories waken, and recall
New life to every part.

And thus, except her Lord's, the Church
Observes with holy cheer,
Saint John's nativity alone
Thro' all her sacred year.

As if to lift our earth-bound hearts
Above the things which are,
And teach how death-days, when in Christ,
Are brighter days by far.

And by the side of him, whose birth
Like morning star arose,
To light the way of breaking Day
That on the mountains glows;

She, in the lessons of her truth,
To teach us, ' what is good,'
Contrasts another Birth-day, kept
In shame, and lust, and blood.

O Saviour! when this day returns,
— Bright with its summer bloom, —
And, on St. John's Nativity,
Points to his early tomb:

Ee this its holy use, to make
The Birth-days of each year,
Tho' dear for all their human joy,
As helps to Heav'n most dear.

The Baptist's pure and holy life,
Severe from early youth,
His bold rebuke of haughty vice,
His patient zeal for truth: .

His preparation of Thy way,
His living in Thy love,
His brief, but hard and toilsome day,
His early rest above:

Be these our Birth- day monitors,
Our souls for Heaven to train,
Teaching us how, ' to live is Christ,'
And how, ' to die is gain.'