John Keble

And taught by thee the Church prolongs
Her hymns of high thanksgiving still.

And taught by thee the Church prolongs
Her hymns of high thanksgiving still.

Feast of John Keble, Priest, Poet, Tractarian, 1866 Sun of my soul, Thou Savior dear, It is not night read more

Feast of John Keble, Priest, Poet, Tractarian, 1866 Sun of my soul, Thou Savior dear, It is not night if Thou be near; O may no earth-born cloud arise To hide Thee from thy servant's eyes.

Sprinkled along the waste of years
Full many a soft green isle appears:
Pause where we may read more

Sprinkled along the waste of years
Full many a soft green isle appears:
Pause where we may upon the desert road,
Some shelter is in sight, some sacred safe abode.

Feast of John Keble, Priest, Poet, Tractarian, 1866 The deaf may hear the Saviour's voice, The fettered tongue its chains read more

Feast of John Keble, Priest, Poet, Tractarian, 1866 The deaf may hear the Saviour's voice, The fettered tongue its chains may break; But the deaf heart, the dumb by choice, The laggard soul that will not wake, The guilt that scorns to be forgiven -- These baffle e'en the spells of heaven.

God hath sworn to lift on high
Who sinks himself by true humility.

God hath sworn to lift on high
Who sinks himself by true humility.