Part 12 (2/2)

Once more the Pentecostal torch Lights on the courses of the year: The ”upper chamber” of the Church Is thrilled once more with joy and fear.

Who lifts her brow from out the dust?

Who fixes on a world restored A gaze like Eve's, but more august?

Who bends it heaven-ward on her Lord?

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It is the Birthday of the Bride.

The new begins; the ancient ends: From all the gates of Heaven flung wide The promised Paraclete descends.

He who o'er-shadowed Mary once O'ershades Humanity to-day; And bids her fruitful prove in sons Co-heritors with Christ for aye.

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_Dominica Pentecostes._

XXIX.

The Form decreed of tree and flower, The shape susceptible of life, Without the infused vivific Power, Were but a slumber or a strife.

He whom the plastic hand of G.o.d Himself created out of earth Remained a statue and a clod Till spirit infused to life gave birth.

So, till that hour, the Church. In Christ Her awful structure, nerve and bone, Though built, and shaped, and organised, Existed but in skeleton;

Till down on that predestined frame, Complete through all its sacred mould, The Pentecostal Spirit came,-- The self-same Spirit who of old

Creative o'er the waters moved.

Thenceforth the Church, made One and Whole, Arose in Him, and lived, and loved-- His Temple she; and He her Soul.

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_Turris Davidica._

x.x.x.

The towered City loves thee well, Strong Tower of David's House! In thee She hails the unvanquished citadel That frowns o'er Error's subject sea.

With magic might that Tower repels A host that breaks where foe is none,-- No foe but statued Saints in cells High-ranged, and smiling in the sun.

There stands Augustin; Leo there; And Bernard, with a maiden face Like John's; and, strong at once and fair, That Spirit-Pythian, Athanase.

Upon thy star-surrounded height G.o.d's angel keepeth watch and ward; And sunrise flashes thence ere night Hath left dark street and dewy sward.

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