SAINT BARTHOLOMEW'S DAY. AUGUST 24. COLLECT. O Almighty and everlasting God, who didst give to thine Apostle Bartholomew grace truly to believe and to preach thy word; grant, we beseech thee, unto thy Church to love that word which he believed, and both to preach and receive the same, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. HYMN. "BEHOLD, in whom no guile I find, A guileless heart! what fairer scene Or God's creation show? Fair are the snow-wreaths that infold Fair is the star of evening bright, But Alpine snow, nor crystal stream, Nor moon, nor evening planet's gleam, For these material works of God And tell the Maker's power abroad, But guileless truth and innocence, BP. MANT. SAINT MATTHEW'S DAY. SEPTEMBER 21. COLLECT. O Almighty God, who by thy blessed Son didst call Matthew from the receipt of custom, to be an apostle and evangelist; grant us grace to forsake all covetous desires, and inordinate love of riches, and to follow the same thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, world without end. Amen.. HYMN. PREPARE the feast! the viands bring, The subject welcomes Israel's king; But who is he, the host, whose care And who are they assembled there "T is MATTHEW, 't is the publican; Who sat, a much-despised man, And they, the guests assembled round, O holy Jesus, and are these Is this the host thy soul to please, "Not to the righteous was I sent; I call the sinner to repent; "For them my glory I resigned; Shepherd of Israel, Saviour dear! Repentant, lo! to thee we turn, Give us what thou reveal'st to learn, And what thou bidd'st obey. BP. MANT. ANOTHER. YE hermits blest, ye holy maids, Who talk with God in shadowy glades, The moral of each fleeting cloud and gale, The whispers from above, that haunt the twilight vale; – Say, when in pity ye have gazed On the wreathed smoke afar, That o'er some town, like mist upraised, Hung, hiding sun and star, Then as you turned your weary eye To the green earth and open sky, Were ye not fain to doubt how Faith could dwell But Love's a flower that will not die And Christian Hope can cheer the eye Then be sure that Love can bless Even in this crowded wilderness, Where ever-moving myriads seem to say, There are in this loud stirring tide Of human care and crime, With whom the melodies abide Of the everlasting chime; |