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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421171" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fourteenth Sunday After Trinity</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ten cleansed, and only one remain!<br>Who would have thought our nature's stain<br>Was dyed so foul, so deep in grain?<br> E'en He who reads the heart -<br>Knows what He gave and what we lost,<br>Sin's forfeit, and redemption's cost, -<br>By a short pang of wonder crossed<br> Seems at the sight to start:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet 'twas not wonder, but His love<br>Our wavering spirits would reprove,<br>That heavenward seem so free to move<br> When earth can yield no more<br>Then from afar on God we cry,<br>But should the mist of woe roll by,<br>Not showers across an April sky<br> Drift, when the storm is o'er,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Faster than those false drops and few<br>Fleet from the heart, a worthless dew.<br>What sadder scene can angels view<br> Than self-deceiving tears,<br>Poured idly over some dark page<br>Of earlier life, though pride or rage,<br>The record of to-day engage,<br> A woe for future years?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Spirits, that round the sick man's bed<br>Watched, noting down each prayer he made,<br>Were your unerring roll displayed,<br> His pride of health to abase;<br>Or, when, soft showers in season fall<br>Answering a famished nation's call,<br>Should unseen fingers on the wall<br> Our vows forgotten trace:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How should we gaze in trance of fear!<br>Yet shines the light as thrilling clear<br>From Heaven upon that scroll severe,<br> &quot;Ten cleansed and one remain!&quot;<br>Nor surer would the blessing prove<br>Of humbled hearts, that own Thy love,<br>Should choral welcome from above<br> Visit our senses plain:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Than by Thy placid voice and brow,<br>With healing first, with comfort now,<br>Turned upon him, who hastes to bow<br> Before Thee, heart and knee;<br>&quot;Oh! thou, who only wouldst be blest,<br>On thee alone My blessing rest!<br>Rise, go thy way in peace, possessed<br> For evermore of Me.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Keble">John Keble</a><div class=q>
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Who would have thought our nature's stain
Was dyed so foul, so deep in grain?
 E'en He who reads the heart -
Knows what He gave and what we lost,
Sin's forfeit, and redemption's cost, -
By a short pang of wonder ..."></div>
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