1 Star of the east, how sweet art Thou,
Seen in life’s early morning sky,
Ere yet a cloud has dimmed the brow,
While yet we gaze with childish eye;
When father, mother, nursing friend,
Most dearly loved, and loving best,
First bid us from their arms ascend,
Pointing to Thee, in Thy sure rest.
2 Too soon the glare of earthly day
Buries, to us, Thy brightness keen,
And we are left to find our way
By faith and hope in Thee unseen.
What matter? if the waymarks sure
On every side are round us set,
Soon overleaped, but not obscure?
’Tis ours to mark them or forget.
3 What matter? if in calm old age
Our childhood’s star again arise,
Crowning our lonely pilgrimage
With all that cheers a wanderer’s eyes?
Ne’er may we lose it from our sight,
Till all our hopes and thoughts are led
To where it stays its lucid flight
Over our Savior’s lowly bed.
4 There, swathed in humblest poverty,
On chastity’s meek lap enshrined,
With breathless reverence waiting by,
When we our sovereign master find,
Will not the long-forgotten glow
Of mingled joy and awe return,
When stars above or flowers below
First made our infant spirits burn?
5 Look on us, Lord, and take our parts
E’en on Thy throne of purity!
From these our proud yet groveling hearts
Hide not Thy mild forgiving eye.
Did not the Gentile Church find grace,
Our mother dear, this favored day?
With gold and myrrh she sought Thy face;
Nor didst Thou turn Thy face away.
6 She too, in earlier, purer days,
Had watched Thee gleaming faint and far
But wandering in self chosen ways
She lost Thee quite, Thou lovely star.
Yet had her Father’s finger turned
To Thee her first inquiring glance:
The deeper shame within her burned,
When wakened from her willful trance.
7 Behold, her wisest throng Thy gate,
Their richest, sweetest, purest store,
(Yet owned too worthless and too late)
They lavish on Thy cottage floor.
They give their best—O tenfold shame
On us their fallen progeny,
Who sacrifice the blind and lame—
Who will not wake or fast with Thee!
Keble, John, M.A., was born at Fairford, in Gloucestershire, on St. Mark's Day, 1792. His father was Vicar of Coln St. Aldwin's, about three miles distant, but lived at Fairford in a house of his own, where he educated entirely his two sons, John and Thomas, up to the time of their entrance at Oxford. In 1806 John Keble won a Scholarship at Corpus Christi College, and in 1810 a Double First Class, a distinction which up to that time had been gained by no one except Sir Robert Peel. In 1811 he was elected a Fellow of Oriel, a very great honour, especially for a boy under 19 years of age; and in 1811 he won the University Prizes both for the English and Latin Essays. It is somewhat remarkable that amid this brilliantly successful career,… Go to person page >
SAGINA, by Thomas Campbell... is almost universally associated with "And Can It Be." Little is known of Campbell other than his publication The Bouquet (1825), in which each of twenty-three tunes has a horticultural name. SAGINA borrows its name from a genus of the pink family of herbs, which includ…