PLANGE FILIA SION.

Lone in the dreary wilderness, Meek, by the Spirit led, For forty days and forty nights, Our Saviour hungerèd. O night winds! did ye fold your wings Ere, on that brow so pure, Ye roughly smote the uncovered head That all things did endure? O rude winds! did ye on those eves Only the flowers fill; Or, with the drops of night, his locks And sacred body chill? He, the most lovely, most divine, So lost in love for us! Our evil-starred, sin-stricken race, By him redeemèd thus! We hear the audacious tempter's words— Amazed, we hold our breath; We follow him, the Holy One, Sorrowful unto death! Thus, may we to the wilderness Close follow thee, dear Lord, These forty days and forty nights, Obedient to thy word: Renounce the world, and Satan's wiles, In blest retreat of prayer, Self-abnegation, vigilance, And find our Saviour there. For vain the sackcloth, ashes, fast, In vain retreat in prayer, Unless the sackcloth gird the heart, True penitence be there; Sorrow for sins that helped to point The spear, the thorn, the nail. O Lord! have mercy upon us, While we those sins bewail. And in the lonely wilderness, From world and sin withdrawn, Our hearts shall cloistered be in thine Till glows glad Easter's dawn!