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Hymns of the Eastern Church, by J.M. Neale, [1884], at

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by S. Joseph of the Studium

  Safe home, safe home in port!
  —Rent cordage, shattered deck,
  Torn sails, provisions short,
  And only not a wreck:
But oh! the joy upon the shore
To tell our voyage-perils o’er!

  The prize, the prize secure!
  The athlete nearly tell;
  Bare all he could endure,
  And bare not always well:
But he may smile at troubles gone
Who sets the victor-garland on!

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  No more the foe can harm:
  No more of leaguer’d camp,
  And cry of night-alarm,
  And need of ready lamp:
And yet how nearly he had failed,—
How nearly had that foe prevailed!

  The lamb is in the fold
  In perfect safety penn’d:
  The lion once had hold,
  And thought to make an end:
But One came by with Wounded Side,
And for the sheep the Shepherd died.

  The exile is at Home
  —O nights and days of tears,
  O longings not to roam,
  O sins, and doubts, and fears,—
What matter now (when so men say)
The King has wip’d those tears away?

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  O happy, happy Bride!
  Thy widow’d hours are past,
  The Bridegroom at thy side,
  Thou all His own at last!
The sorrows of thy former cup
In full fruition swallow’d up!

[No. 5 in H. E. C. This, of all the melodies written for, or adapted to, these hymns, is my own especial favourite. One feels that the anonymous writer of such a plaintive, yet soothing, melody, must have been one—to quote Archbishop Trench's words with regard to the author of Veni, Sancte Spiritus,— acquainted with great sorrows, but also with great consolations.]








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