University of Virginia Library

Thus pray'd the prophet in the wilderness:
“God of my fathers! look on my distress;
My days are spent in vanity and strife,
O that the Lord would please to take my life!
Beneath the clods through this lone valley spread,
Fain would I join the generations dead!”

Heav'n deign'd no answer to that murmuring prayer,
Silence that thrill'd the blood alone was there;
Down sunk his weary limbs, slow heaved his breath,
And sleep fell on him with a weight like death;
Dreams, raised by evil spirits, hover'd near,
Throng'd with strange thoughts, and images of fear;
The' abominations of the Gentiles came;—
Detested Chemosh, Moloch clad with flame,
Ashtaroth, queen of heaven, with moony crest,
And Baäl, sun-like, high above the rest,
Glared on him, gnash'd their teeth, then sped away,
Like ravening vultures to their carrion-prey,
Where every grove grew darker with their rites,
And blood ran reeking down the mountain-heights;
But to the living God, throughout the land,
He saw no altar blaze, no temple stand;
Jerusalem was dust, and Zion's hill,
Like Tophet's valley, desolate and still:
The prophet drew one deep desponding groan,
And his heart died within him, like a stone.

An angel's touch the dire entrancement broke,
“Arise and eat, Elijah!”—He awoke,
And found a table in the desert spread,
With water in the cruise beside his head;
He bless'd the Lord, who turn'd away his prayer,
And feasted on the heaven-provided fare;
Then sweeter slumber o'er his senses stole,
And sunk like life new-breathed into his soul.
A dream brought David's city on his sight,
—Shepherds were watching o'er their flocks by night;
Around them uncreated splendour blazed,
And heavenly hosts their hallelujahs raised;
A theme unknown since sin to death gave birth,
“Glory to God! good-will and peace on earth!”
They sang; his heart responded to the strain,
Though memory sought to keep the words in vain:
The vision changed;—amid the gloom serene,
One star above all other stars was seen;
It had a light, a motion, of its own,
And o'er a humble shed in Bethlehem shone;
He look'd, and lo! an infant newly born,
That seem'd cast out to poverty and scorn,
Yet Gentile kings its advent came to greet,
Worshipp'd, and laid their treasures at its feet.
Musing what this mysterious babe might be,
He saw a sufferer stretch'd upon a tree;
Yet while the victim died, by men abhorr'd,
Creation's agonies confess'd him Lord.
Again the angel smote the slumberer's side;
“Arise and eat, the way is long and wide.”
He rose and ate, and, with unfainting force,
Through forty days and nights upheld his course.
Horeb, the mount of God, he reach'd, and lay
Within a cavern till the cool of day.
“What dost thou here, Elijah?”—Like the tide,
Brake that deep voice through silence. He replied,
“I have been very jealous for thy cause,
Lord God of hosts! for men make void thy laws;
Thy people have thrown down thine altars, slain
Thy prophets,—I, and I alone, remain;
My life with reckless vengeance they pursue,
And what can I against a nation do?”

“Stand on the mount before the Lord, and know,
That wrath or mercy at my will I show.”
Anon the power that holds the winds let fly
Their devastating armies through the sky;
Then shook the wilderness, the rocks were rent,
As when Jehovah bow'd the firmament,
And trembling Israel, while He gave the law,
Beheld his symbols, but no image saw.
The storm retired, nor left a trace behind;
The Lord pass'd by; He came not with the wind.

Beneath the prophet's feet, the shuddering ground
Clave, and disclosed a precipice profound,
Like that which open'd to the gates of hell
When Korah, Dathan, and Abiram fell:
Again the Lord pass'd by, but unreveal'd;
He came not with the earthquake, all was seal'd.

A new amazement! vale and mountain turn'd
Red as the battle-field with blood, then burn'd
Up to the stars, as terrible a flame
As shall devour this universal frame;
Elijah watch'd it kindle, spread, expire;
The Lord pass'd by; He came not with the fire.

A still small whisper breathed upon his ear;
He wrapp'd his mantle round his face with fear;
Darkness that might be felt involved him,—dumb
With expectation of a voice to come,
He stood upon the threshold of the cave,
As one long dead, just risen from the grave,
In the last judgment.—Came the voice and cried,
“What dost thou here, Elijah?”—He replied,
“I have been very jealous for thy cause,
Lord God of hosts! for men make void thy laws;
Thy people have thrown down thine altars, slain
Thy prophets,—I, and I alone, remain;
My life with ruthless violence they pursue,
And what can I against a nation do?”

“My day of vengeance is at hand: the year
Of my redeem'd shall suddenly appear:
Go thou,—anoint two kings,—and in thy place
A prophet to stand up before my face:
Then he who 'scapes the Syrian's sword shall fall
By his whom to Samaria's throne I call;
And he who 'scapes from Jehu, in that day,
Him shall the judgment of Elisha slay.
Yet hath a remnant been preserved by me,
Seven thousand souls, who never bow'd the knee
To Baäl's image, nor have kiss'd his shrine;
These are my jewels, and they shall be mine
When to the world my righteousness is shown,
And, root and branch, idolatry o'erthrown.

So be it, God of truth, yet why delay?
With thee a thousand years are as one day;
O crown thy people's hopes, dispel their fears,
And be to-day with Thee a thousand years!
Cut short the evil, bring the blessed time,
Avenge thine own elect from clime to clime;
Let not an idol in thy path be spared;
All share the fate which Bäal long hath shared;
Nor let seven thousand only worship Thee;
Make every tongue confess, bow every knee;
Now o'er the promised kingdoms reign thy Son,
One Lord through all the earth,—his name be one!
Hast Thou not spoken? shall it not be done?