My life is like a faded leaf,

My harvest dwindled to a husk ;
Truly my life is.void and brief

And tedious in the barren dusk ;
My life is like a frozen thing,

No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall, - the sap of Spring;
O Jesus, rise in me!

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!

TH

ADVENT.

HIS 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.

"SWEET,

WEET, thou art pale.”

"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."

"Sweet, thou art weary."

"Not so Christ :

Whose mighty love of me sufficed

For Strength, Salvation, Eucharist."

"Sweet, thou art footsore."

"If I bleed,

His feet have bled: 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."

"Look, thou art fair.”

"He was more fair

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

"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?”

"Thou shalt win Glory."

"In the skies,

Lord Jesus, cover up mine eyes

Lest they should look on vanities."

"Thou shalt have Knowledge."

"Helpless dust,

In Thee, O Lord, I put my trust :
Answer Thou for me, Wise and Just."