July 2

Walk as children of light.

WOULD wisdom for herself be woo'd, And wake the foolish from his dream, She must be glad as well as good, And must not only be, but seem.

What's that which Heaven to man endears, And that which eyes no sooner see Than the heart says, with floods of tears, "Ah, that's the thing which I would be!"

Not these: but souls, found here and there, Oases in our waste of sin, Where everything is well and fair, And Heaven remits its discipline; Whose sweet subdual of the world The worldling scarce can recognise, And ridicule, against it hurl'd, Drops with a broken sting and dies.

Who, should their own life plaudits bring, Are simply vex'd at heart that such An easy, yea, delightful thing Should move the minds of men so much.

They shine like Moses in the face, And teach our hearts, without the rod, That God's grace is the only grace, And all grace is the grace of God.

COVENTRY PATMORE

2 A

A SACRAMENT