A little while, and they shall fleet From Heaven to Earth, attendants meet On the life-giving Paraclete Speeding His flight, With all that sacred is and sweet, On saints to light. Apostles, Prophets, Pastors, all Shall feel the shower of Mercy fall, And startling at th’ Almighty’s call, Give what He gave, Till their high deeds the world appal, And sinners save. Whitsunday. And suddenly there came a sound from Heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost. _Acts_ ii. 2–4 WHEN God of old came down from Heaven, In power and wrath He came; Before His feet the clouds were riven, Half darkness and half flame: Around the trembling mountain’s base The prostrate people lay; A day of wrath and not of grace; A dim and dreadful day. But when he came the second time, He came in power and love, Softer than gale at morning prime Hovered His holy Dove. The fires that rushed on Sinai down In sudden torrents dread, Now gently light, a glorious crown, On every sainted head. Like arrows went those lightnings forth Winged with the sinner’s doom, But these, like tongues, o’er all the earth Proclaiming life to come: And as on Israel’s awe-struck ear The voice exceeding loud, The trump, that angels quake to hear, Thrilled from the deep, dark cloud; So, when the Spirit of our God Came down His flock to find, A voice from Heaven was heard abroad, A rushing, mighty wind. Nor doth the outward ear alone At that high warning start; Conscience gives back th’ appalling tone; ’Tis echoed in the heart. It fills the Church of God; it fills The sinful world around; Only in stubborn hearts and wills No place for it is found. To other strains our souls are set: A giddy whirl of sin Fills ear and brain, and will not let Heaven’s harmonies come in. Come Lord, Come Wisdom, Love, and Power, Open our ears to hear; Let us not miss th’ accepted hour; Save, Lord, by Love or Fear. Monday in Whitsun-week. So the Lord scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth; and they left off to build the city. _Genesis_ xi. 8 SINCE all that is not Heaven must fade, Light be the hand of Ruin laid Upon the home I love: With lulling spell let soft Decay Steal on, and spare the giant sway, The crash of tower and grove. Far opening down some woodland deep In their own quiet glade should sleep The relics dear to thought, And wild-flower wreaths from side to side Their waving tracery hang, to hide What ruthless Time has wrought.