Kitobni o'qish: «Hymns from the East», sahifa 2

But our prejudices, which are, as usual, due to imperfect knowledge, culpable or otherwise, charge this Church, which claims to be Orthodox, with being heretical in doctrine and worship. To put the common view, this Church, which is the repository of Apostolic doctrine, and from which we, in common with others, have derived, has, along with the truth, a large admixture of error, which renders her dangerous and to be avoided.

We, who plume ourselves on the orthodoxy of our doctrines and purity of worship, have a remarkable facility for detecting and magnifying the errors of others: of creating them where they do not exist, and of exaggerating them where they do. This facility has this advantage, that it keeps our eyes away from ourselves and from the errors which are nearer home. Like the beams of the winter sun which have little warmth in them, the line of our vision is somewhat oblique.

This is a subject much too large to occupy our attention to any extent here. It may be enough to remark in regard to the major charges, that nowhere does the Eastern Church address worship, either to the Mother of our Lord, or to the saints and angels. They are venerated and invoked, but worshipped, never. Worship, as we understand it, is addressed to the Triune God, and to Him alone. This is a rather dangerous subject to touch, and this is not the place to safely approach it; but it may suffice to say that we might be a great deal the better, and none the worse, and it might be comforting and strengthening in times of affliction and trial, to realise more than we do, that our Lord wore our flesh when He sojourned with us on the earth, and that He derived His humanity from Mary. We might thus even be induced to use Her name with greater veneration and affection than have yet characterised our references to Her, when these have had to be made, and so aid the fulfilment of Her own prophecy, “Behold, from henceforth, all generations shall call me blessed.” And might it not be good for us to remember that there are saints and angels, and that we are “compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses?” Who doubts the fact? Do not they who tacitly ignore the existence of the Blessed Dead?

If any of the hymns contained in this volume should touch the heart of anyone who reads them, or, better still, at any future time, sings them, may he, as he remembers the source from which they have come, think reverently and sympathetically of the struggling Church of the East.

HYMNS FROM THE EAST

MORNING

I

 
Now, God of Light, the morn appears,
And life revives, and beauty glows;
The night has gone with all its fears,
And lo! the light in brightness grows.
 

II

 
Thine be the glory, God of Light,
For all the joy from morn that springs;
O may a morn dispel each night,
And bless our lives with beauteous things.
 

III

 
Give us this day the light that dwells
In every heart Thy presence fills;
That night with all its fears dispels,
And life, and hope, and joy instils.
 

IV

 
Then shall our nights no darkness bring,
But morn, bright morn, for ever shine;
And when night spreads her dusky wings,
More bright shall be the light divine.
 

V

 
All praise to Thee, the God of Light;
All praise to Christ, the glorious Son;
And to the Spirit, Lord of might,
Now, and while endless ages run.
 

I

 
Up, up, my soul! with gladness rise,
And greet the ever-brightening skies.
The morn hath come, sweet morn, awake!
And from thy pinions slumber shake.
 

II

 
Pure as the morn God’s presence shines;
Love like its beams, thy life entwines;
Richer the gifts thy God bestows
Than morning beauty can disclose.
 

III

 
Sweet as the breath that fans the bowers,
And stirs the leaves and opening flowers,
Comes with the morn, the breath divine
To stir thee, slumbering soul of mine.
 

IV

 
O Thou, the Morn, the Light, the Sun,
With Thee be every day begun;
Brightness shall clothe my life always,
And fill my soul with grateful praise.
 

V

 
Glory to Thee, O Christ! my Lord,
Light of my soul, Incarnate Word!
Come with the morn, abide alway,
And cheer my course to endless day.
 

I

 
The saffron tints appear,
The morning comes – ’tis here.
Wipe slumber from thine eyes,
Behold the sun arise!
 

II

 
Clad in his garb of gold,
Bright as he shone of old;
Beams o’er the heavens extend,
Shafts from his orb descend.
 

III

 
Sun, that in morning light
Rises, nor sinks in night,
Shine in my soul alway,
Make there an endless day.
 

IV

 
Life for my deadness give;
Shine, that my soul may live;
Joy to my sorrow bring;
Light on Thy glowing wing.
 

V

 
If ’neath the cloud I lie,
Darkness obscure my sky;
Yet, may my faith behold
Glints of the hidden gold.
 

VI

 
Father, to Thee, always,
And Holy Ghost, be praise;
Glory, while ages run,
To Thee, O Christ! our Sun.
 

I

 
Now glows the morn in beauty rare,
O haste my soul to fervent prayer,
And let the wings of morning raise
To God the tribute of thy praise.
 

II

 
The night is gone; now disappear
The clouds that hung in threatening near;
Day comes apace, and terrors flee,
For light illumes the earth and sea.
 

III

 
O soul dismayed! when darkness fills
The dismal days with darkling ills,
Rest in the calm the promise gives,
That Christ, thy Light and Glory, lives.
 

IV

 
Morn shall appear and scatter night;
Light shall appear in noonday might.
Strong in the joy the daylight brings,
Soul, thou shalt rise on glowing wings.
 

V

 
Morn of my soul, O Christ, Thou art;
Light of my life; my drooping heart
Sings, when Thy countenance benign
Shines as the joys of noonday shine.
 

EVENING

I

 
When night her sable curtain spreads,
And darkness falls on sea and land,
In silent beauty, o’er our heads,
The stars shine grand.
 

II

 
The orb of day his race hath run,
But see what glory comes to view,
As, full of radiance, one by one,
The stars shine true.
 

III

 
Now bright their silver light appears,
And reverent eyes behold the sight;
Hope lights the darkness of our fears —
The stars shine bright.
 

IV

 
When on our life the curtain falls,
And fast descends a threatening night,
Then, lest dismay the soul appals,
The stars shine bright.
 

V

 
O great the wisdom, great the power, —
God draws the curtains of the night,
And, in the dark and lonesome hour,
The stars shine bright.
 

VI

 
The glory and the truth of God,
His lovingkindness and His care, —
Such is the light He sheds abroad,
His stars shine rare.
 

I

 
A crown of gold surpassing rare,
The western hills, in beauty, wear;
And earth and sea reflect the light,
That fades before th’ approach of night.
 

II

 
O Glorious Sun! whose peerless ray
Illumes the realm of endless day,
Shine on a world where darkness dwells,
And all the joy of day dispels.
 

III

 
Soft o’er the land the twilight creeps;
Night falls apace, and nature sleeps;
O let not night my life control,
And plunge in sleep my drowsy soul.
 

IV

 
Sleep to the weary pilgrim give,
But let the soul through slumber live;
Wake when the first faint gleam of morn
Tells that another day is born.
 

V

 
Light of my life! bid night depart,
Sing to my soul, and cheer my heart;
That morn, and noon, and night may be
One beauteous day of joy to me.
 

VI

 
And when the brightest morn shall break,
And bid the eternal day awake,
O Glorious Sun! in radiance shine,
To guard from night the realm divine.