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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421207" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>St. Barnabas</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The world's a room of sickness, where each heart<br> Knows its own anguish and unrest;<br> The truest wisdom there, and noblest art,<br> Is his, who skills of comfort best;<br> Whom by the softest step and gentlest tone<br> Enfeebled spirits own,<br> And love to raise the languid eye,<br>When, like an angel's wing, they feel him fleeting by:-</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> FEEL only--for in silence gently gliding<br> Fain would he shun both ear and sight,<br> 'Twixt Prayer and watchful Love his heart dividing,<br> A nursing-father day and night.<br> Such were the tender arms, where cradled lay,<br> In her sweet natal day,<br> The Church of JESUS; such the love<br>He to His chosen taught for His dear widowed Dove.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Warmed underneath the Comforter's safe wing<br> They spread th' endearing warmth around:<br> Mourners, speed here your broken hearts to bring,<br> Here healing dews and balms abound:<br> Here are soft hands that cannot bless in vain,<br> By trial taught your pain:<br> Here loving hearts, that daily know<br>The heavenly consolations they on you bestow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Sweet thoughts are theirs, that breathe serenest calms,<br> Of holy offerings timely paid,<br> Of fire from heaven to bless their votive alms<br> And passions on GOD'S altar laid.<br> The world to them is closed, and now they shine<br> With rays of love divine,<br> Through darkest nooks of this dull earth<br>Pouring, in showery times, their glow of &quot;quiet mirth.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> New hearts before their Saviour's feet to lay,<br> This is their first, their dearest joy:<br> Their next from heart to heart to clear the way<br> For mutual love without alloy:<br> Never so blest as when in JESUS' roll<br> They write some hero-soul,<br> More pleased upon his brightening road<br>To wait, than if their own with all his radiance glowed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> O happy spirits, marked by God and man<br> Their messages of love to bear,<br> What though long since in Heaven your brows began,<br> The genial amarant wreath to wear,<br> And in th' eternal leisure of calm love<br> Ye banquet there above;<br> Yet in your sympathetic heart<br>We and our earthly griefs may ask and hope a part.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Comfort's true sons! amid the thoughts of down<br> That strew your pillow of repose,<br> Sure 'tis one joy to muse, how ye unknown<br> By sweet remembrance soothe our woes;<br> And how the spark ye lit, of heavenly cheer,<br> Lives in our embers here,<br> Where'er the cross is borne with smiles,<br>Or lightened secretly by Love's endearing wiles:</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Where'er one Levite in the temple keeps<br> The watch-fire of his midnight prayer,<br> Or issuing thence, the eyes of mourners steeps<br> In heavenly balm, fresh gathered there;<br> Thus saints, that seem to die in earth's rude strife,<br> Only win double life:<br> They have but left our weary ways<br>To live in memory here, in Heaven by love and praise.</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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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421207" data-title="St. Barnabas de John Keble" data-description="The world's a room of sickness, where each heart
 Knows its own anguish and unrest;
 The truest wisdom there, and noblest art,
 Is his, who skills of comfort best;
 Whom by the softest step and gentlest tone
 Enfeebled spirits own,
 And love to ra..."></div>
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