O FATHER!

O co-equal SON!

O co-eternal SPIRIT!

In Persons Three, in Substance One,
And One in power and merit;
In Thee baptiz'd, we Thee adore
(For ever and for evermore'!

ODE IX.

φωτίζου, φωτίζου.

Thou New Jerusalem, arise and shine! The glory of the LORD on thee hath risen Sion, exult! rejoice with joy divine,

Mother of GOD! Thy Son hath burst His prison.

O Heavenly Voice! O word of purestl ove! 'Lo! I am with you alway to the end ' This is the anchor, steadfast from above, The golden anchor, whence our hopes depend.

O CHRIST, our Pascha! greatest, holiest,

best!

GOD'S Word and Wisdom and effectual

Might!

Thy fuller, lovelier presence manifest,

In that eternal realm, that knows no night!

THE STICHERA OF THE LAST KISS.

Δεῦτε τελευταῖον ἄσπασμον δῶμεν.

The following Stichera, which are generally, (though without any great cause,) attributed to S. John Damascene, form, perhaps, one of the most striking portions of the service of the Eastern Church. They are sung towards the conclusion of the Funeral Office, while the friends and relations are, in turns, kissing the corpse; the Priest does so last of all. Immediately afterwards, it is borne to the grave; the Priest casts the first earth on the coffin, with the words, "The earth is the LORD'S, and all that therein is the compass of the world, and they that dwell therein." I have omitted four of the stanzas, as being almost a repetition of the rest.

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Take the last kiss,-the last for ever!

Yet render thanks amidst your gloom: He, severed from his home and kindred, Is passing onwards to the tomb: For earthly labours, earthly pleasures, And carnal joys, he cares no more: Where are his kinsfolk and acquaintance? They stand upon another shore.

Let us say, around him pressed,

Grant him, LORD, eternal rest!

The hour of woe and separation,

The hour of falling tears is this.
Him that so lately was among us
For the last time of all we kiss:
Up to the grave to be surrendered,
Sealed with the monumental stone,
A dweller in the house of darkness,
Amidst the dead to lie alone.
Let us say, around him pressed,
Grant him, LORD, eternal rest!

Life, and life's evil conversation,

And all its dreams, are passed away. The soul hath left her tabernacle :

Black and unsightly grows the clay : The golden vessel here lies broken :

The tongue no voice of answer knows:
Hushed is sensation, stilled is motion;
Toward the tomb the dead man goes.

Let us cry with heart's endeavour,
Grant him rest that is for ever!

What is our life? A fading flower;
A vapour, passing soon away;
The dewdrops of the early morning :-
Come, gaze upon the tombs to-day.
Where now is youth? Where now is beauty,
And grace of form, and sparkling eye?
All, like the summer grass, are withered;
All are abolished utterly!

While our eyes with grief grow dim,
Let us weep to CHRIST for him!