“Now hath Thy servant seen Thy saving health, O Lord; ’Tis time that I depart in peace, According to Thy word.” Yet swells this pomp: one more Comes forth to bless her God; Full fourscore years, meek widow, she Her heaven-ward way hath troth. She who to earthly joys So long had given farewell, Now sees, unlooked for, Heaven on earth, Christ in His Israel. Wide open from that hour The temple-gates are set, And still the saints rejoicing there The holy Child have met. Now count His train to-day, Auth who may meet Him, learn: Him child-like sires, meek maidens find, Where pride can nought discern. Still to the lowly soul He doth Himself impart, And for His cradle and His throne Chooseth the pure in heart. St. Matthias’ Day. Wherefore of these men which have companied with us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John, unto the same day that He was taken up from us, must one be ordained to be a witness with us of His resurrection. _Acts_ i. 21, 22. WHO is God’s chosen priest? He, who on Christ stands waiting day and night, Who traceth His holy steps, nor ever ceased, From Jordan banks to Bethphage height: Who hath learned lowliness From his Lord’s cradle, patience from His Cross; Whom poor men’s eyes and hearts consent to bless; To whom, for Christ, the world is loss; Who both in agony Hath seen Him and in glory; and in both Owned Him divine, and yielded, nothing loth, Body and soul, to live and die, In witness of his Lord, In humble following of his Saviour dear: This is the man to wield th’ unearthly sword, Warring unharmed with sin and fear. But who can o’er suffice— What mortal—for this more than angels’ task, Winning or losing souls, Thy life-blood’s price? The gift were too divine to ask. But Thou hast made it sure By Thy dear promise to thy Church and Bride, That Thou, on earth, wouldst aye with her endure, Till earth to Heaven be purified. Thou art her only spouse, Whose arm supports her, on Whose faithful breast Her persecuted head she meekly bows, Sure pledge of her eternal rest. Thou, her unerring guide, Stayest her fainting steps along the wild; Thy merit is on the bowers of lust and pride, That she may pass them undefiled. Who then, uncalled by Thee, Dare touch Thy spouse, Thy very self below? Or who dare count him summoned worthily, Except Thine hand and seal he show? Where can Thy seal be found, But on thou chosen seed, from age to age By thine anointed heralds duly crowned, As kings and priests Thy war to wage?