The Oratories: Festival Days

Spher'd in its orb, each radiant Festival
Upon our annual path in turn appears,
And, like the lights on the ethereal wall,
Each its new shade of varying lustre wears,—
Each its new thought, new lesson, till at length
The combinations of their brightness blend
To form the wreath of Truth, Light's gather'd strength
The knowledge of our God, our being's end.

One while the Infant Martyrs throw their mild
And gentle radiance upon childhood's grave ;
Which some sad mother hath of grief beguil'd,
Sooth'd with the pledge of the fresh saving wave.

Not so when glorious Michael stands confest,
With ministering hosts and bright array,
Faith sees around her many an Angel guest,
Like stars, forgotten in the glare of day.

Not so when Saints of God around us come,
Till half unmindful of ourselves forlorn,
Of th' intervening veil and silent tomb,
We tread with them the courts of heavenly morn.

Now holy Matthew calls, for Jesus' sake,
" Beware of Mammon and the treacherous leaven,
Leaving the gainful Galilean lake,
Calls us with him to barter Earth for Heaven.

Now John, whose ravish'd glance is fix'd above,
Drinking the beams which from the Godhead stream,
Puts on the calmness of Angelic love,
While life beneath him seems a fleeting dream.

Thus from the sphere in which it lay conceal'd
As thro' its zodiac rolls the Sacred Year,
Some grace is ever and anon reveal'd,
To duteous hearts fresh influence to bear.

Nor deem it profitless, on chosen days
The ever-busy soul to discipline
To clothe herself with robes of holy praise,
Of countless hues as in the sunbeam shine.

As sunbright days transform the teeming grain,
So these do mould the temper, till it grows
To full and golden ripeness, with the train
Of Sabbath thoughts unask'd, and Christ's repose.

As when on Sunday morn insensate things
With the glad spirit sweetly harmonize,
Till leafy woods, and beasts, and flowing springs,
Seem but to join heard music in the skies : —
The mind clothes all with light from her own store,
And over mute creation spreads her wings ;
Then on those wings to Nature's God to soar,
On sympathies of earth she heavenward springs : —
So these lift up the soul to happier lands,
To hear what strains to the Redeem'd belong ;
Many the gate where Sion's daughter stands,
And at each portal sings a new-made song.