My life is like a broken bowl,

A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul

Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perished thing ;
Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for Him, my King:
O Jesus, drink of me.

IF ONLY.

F ONLY I might love my God and die:

IF

But now He bids me love Him and live on. Now when the bloom of all my life is gone, The pleasant half of life has quite gone by. My tree of hope is lopped that spread so high; And I forget how summer glowed and shone, While autumn grips me with its fingers wan And frets me with its fitful windy sigh. When autumn passes then must winter numb, And winter may not pass a weary while,

But when it passes spring shall flower again : And in that spring who weepeth now shall smile, Yea, they shall wax who now are on the wane, Yea, they shall sing for love when Christ shall come.

ADVENT.

THIS Advent moon shines cold and clear,
These Advent nights are long;

Our lamps have burned year after year
And still their flame is strong.
"Watchman, what of the night?" we cry

Heart-sick with hope deferred:

"No speaking signs are in the sky," Is still the watchman's word.

The Porter watches at the gate,
The servants watch within;
The watch is long betimes and late,
The prize is slow to win.
"Watchman, what of the night?" but still
His answer sounds the same:

"No daybreak tops the utmost hill,
Nor pale our lamps of flame."

One to another hear them speak
The patient virgins wise:
"Surely He is not far to seek"

All night we watch and rise." "The days are evil looking back, The coming days are dim;

Yet count we not His promise slack
But watch and wait for Him."

One with another, soul with soul,

They kindle fire from fire:

"Friends watch us who have touched the goal."

"They urge us, come up higher."

"With them shall rest our waysore feet,

With them is built our home,

With Christ."—"They sweet, but He most sweet, Sweeter than honeycomb."

There no more parting, no more pain,

The distant ones brought near,
The lost so long are found again,
Long lost but longer dear:

Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard,
Nor heart conceived that rest,
With them our good things long deferred,
With Jesus Christ our Best.

We weep because the night is long,
We laugh for day shall rise,
We sing a slow contented song
And knock at Paradise.

Weeping we hold Him fast, Who wept

For us, we hold Him fast; And will not let Him go except He bless us first or last.

Weeping we hold Him fast to-night;
We will not let Him go

Till daybreak smite our wearied sight
And summer smite the snow:

Then figs shall bud, and dove with dove
Shall coo the livelong day;
Then He shall say, "Arise, My love,
My fair one, come away."

THE THREE ENEMIES.

THE FLESH.

WEET, thou art pale."

66

SWE

More pale to see,

Christ hung upon the cruel tree

And bore His Father's wrath for me."

"Sweet, thou art sad."

"Beneath a rod

More heavy, Christ for my sake trod
The winepress of the wrath of God."

"Not so Christ:

Whose mighty love of me sufficed

For Strength, Salvation, Eucharist."

"Sweet, thou art footsore."

"If I bleed.

His feet have bled d; yea in my need.
His Heart once bled for mine indeed."

THE WORLD.

'Sweet, thou art young."

"So He was young

Who for my sake in silence hung

Upon the Cross with Passion wrung."

66 Look, thou art fair.

"He was more fair

Than men, Who deigned for me to wear
A visage marred beyond compare."

66 And thou hast riches."

"Daily bread

All else is His: Who, living. dead,

For me lacked where to lay His Head."

"And life is sweet."

"It was not so

To Him, Whose Cup did overflow

With mine unutterable woe."

THE DEVIL.

"Thou drinkest deep."

"When Christ would sup

He drained the dregs from out my cup:

So how should I be lifted up?"