Ad templa nos rursus vocat.

AGAIN the Sunday morn
Calls us to prayer and praise,
Waking our hearts to gratitude
With its enlivening rays.

But Christ yet brighter shone,
Quenching the morning beam,
When triumphing from death He rose,
And raised us up with Him.

When first the world sprang forth,
In majesty arrayed,
And bathed in streams of purest light,
What power was there displayed!

But, oh, what love! when Christ,
For our transgressions slain,
Was by th’ Eternal Father raised
For us to life again!

His new-created world
The mighty Maker viewed,
With thousand lovely tints adorned,
And straight pronounced it good.

But, oh, much more He joyed
That selfsame world to see
Washed in the Lamb’s all-saving Blood
From its impurity.

Nature each day renews
Her beauty evermore;
Whence to God’s hidden Majesty
The soul is taught to soar.

But Christ, the Light of all,
The Father’s Image blest.
Gives us to see our God Himself
In Flesh made manifest.

Blest Trinity, vouchsafe
That, to thy guidance true.
What Thou forbiddest we may shun;
What Thou commandest, do.

-CASWALL.