The Cathedral, or the Catholic and Apostolic Church in England ::

“Unto them that take hold of My covenant; even unto them will I give in Mine house and within My walls a place and a name . . . . I will give them an everlasting name.” Isaiah lvi. 4, 5.

244

NOAH.

Father of nations! what high thoughts endued
And arm'd thy soul with matchless fortitude,
Walking with God, in tranquil wisdom strong,
'Mid turbulence, and violence, and wrong?
Sole star descried in that tempestuous night,
Sole thing of life in that o'erwhelming blight!

It was the stronger Man, Eve's promis'd Son,
Bound Death's strong arm within thee, and put on
His armour: it was Christ in thee enshrin'd,
Stretching imploring hands to lost mankind.
In thee His feet found “rest” amid the gloom,
Noah, great name of comfort! Lights illume
The darkness, where He comes with thee to stay;
And, on th'horizon's verge, a heavenly ray
Surrounds thee, while the black baptismal flood
Seems but to lift thee, in thy solitude,
Nearer th'aerial hall, to walk among
The stars of Heav'n;—such hopes to faith belong.

In that frail bark Christ, our Emmanuel,
Is passing o'er that more than ocean's swell,
Where seas and skies the gathering darkness fills,
Bearing His own to the celestial hills.

245

ABRAHAM.

Great emblem of the righteous, who shall stand
Girt with bright clouds on the eternal strand,
And see the world in ruin going by,
Stood Abraham, and for Sodom look'd from high.

Behind a misty bank, skirted with gold,
The morning was contending, to unfold
And open all the gloom, where lightnings now
Retiring shew'd black waters far below;
And nothing but destruction seem'd alive,
Save where was seen a hurrying fugitive
With his two daughters, suddenly reveal'd,
And Zoar—by dark clouds again conceal'd.

'Twas on that mount, where, at last evening's close,
He stood with God; strengthen'd with thoughts that rose
On his true soul, when importuning love
Long interceded, nor all vainly strove.

Was it in that dread hour that Bethlehem's star
Gleam'd on thy sorrowing heart, and shew'd afar
That coming, which shall light this vale of woe?
Sure that deep calm was thine, which spirits know
When, first awak'ning from the world's alarms,
They feel beneath the everlasting arms.

246

JOSEPH.

Into some wave, which heedless night-winds rock,
The moon comes down with all her starry flock;
Her glorious imagery around her brings,
And forms a temple of celestial things.

Thus, sweet-soul'd Joseph, as thy life ran on,
Each scene disclos'd anew th'eternal Son,
Till all thou didst, on thy meek purpose bent,
Became in thee divinely eloquent,
Presenting thee, in all that hurried by,
The mirror of some holier history.

Tried by th'adult'rous world, temptation-proof,
But “number'd with transgressors.” Now aloof
Thou sitt'st on high,—around the heathen press,
And from thine hand are fill'd with plenteousness.
But who are these? lift up thine eyes,—behold
Thy brethren, they who set at nought, and sold!
Bid all depart,—Ye little company,
Come ye around, behold me, “it is I,”
Feel me, fear not! the prisoner's chain unbind:
But who is he that lingers yet behind,
“Out of due time?” let ye the stranger in,
'Tis mine own Paul, mine own lov'd Benjamin.

247

MOSES.

Mortal, endow'd with more than Angel's grace!
Admitted to approach, and face to face
Converse with God; upon the mount profound,
While the thick darkness sentry kept around;
Or 'neath His feet, when, in the sapphire stone,
The body of the Heavens in clearness shone.

All nature at thy bidding stood aghast;
And tempests came and went with ready blast;
And the wild sea drew up his watery bands,
To save or to destroy at thy commands.

Thus didst thou shadow forth the Living Word
Who spoke in thee, and nature knew its Lord.
Cleft at thy rod was the obedient stone,
And waters learn'd a sweetness not their own:
But more obdurate than the hardy rock,
Less yielding than the waves thy stubborn flock.

Thus from an ardent soul the meekest man
Came forth; for so, in the eternal plan,
Do outward circumstance and inward toil
In stern probation join; mid the turmoil
Faith sits at the soul's helm, the storm to brave,
And gains the haven against wind and wave.

248

JOSHUA.

By Jericho's doom'd towers who stands on high,
With helmet, spear, and glittering panoply?
“The Christian soldier, like a gleaming star,
“Train'd in the wilderness to iron war.”
Take off thy shoes, thy promis'd land is found,
The place thou standest on is holy ground.
“Take thou the shield and buckler, stop the way
“Against mine enemies! be Thou my stay!”
I am thy rock, thy castle; I am He
Whose feet have dried up the Egyptian sea:
Fear not, for I am with thee; put on might;
'Gainst thrones and powers of darkness is the fight.
“I go, if Thou go with me; ope the skies,
“And lend me Heav'n-attemper'd armories.”
Gird Truth about thee for thy mailed dress,
And for thy breastplate put on Righteousness;
For sandals, beauteous Peace; and for Thy sword
The two-edg'd might of God's unfailing word;
Make golden Hope thy helmet: on, and strive:—
He that o'ercometh in those courts shall live,
Whose crystal floor by heavenly shapes is trod,
“A pillar in the temple of my God.”

249

DAVID.

The shepherd's staff, the sceptre, and the sword,
And Faith's victorious sling, and tuneful chord
Rife with prophetic minstrelsies, was thine,
Sweet son of Jesse! and such grace divine
Shed beauty o'er thy ways, that thou wast prov'd
Princely and chief in all, till on thee mov'd
The eyes and hearts of men. From Heav'n came down
Such rays of grace, and, forming a bright crown
Around thy brow, mark'd Jesse's honour'd stem,
The morning star of royal Bethlehem.

But not the shepherd's crook, sceptre, nor sword,
Nor the lov'd tones of poet's tuneful chord,
Wherein were hid prophetic mysteries,
Nor love of all men's hearts and wond'ring eyes,
Nor Sion's rising towers, nor Carmel's hill,
Nor visions which the minstrel's bosom fill,
The varying robe of day, and beauteous night,
Could meet the yearnings of his longing spright,
When his full heart upon the soothing wires
Broke forth, and pour'd therein his deep desires,—
“Thee, Lord, alone I seek, to keep Thy door,
And dwell within Thy courts for evermore.”

250

ELIJAH.

Stern, awful was thy mercy, Tishbite seer,
To close Heav'n's crystal doors, for three long year,
With bands of thy strong prayer, and from men's eyes
To sweep each cloud from the offended skies.
Sure our apostate land is worse than thine,
Nor know we what to seek, what to decline.

Where wast thou wafted o'er earth's azure roof,
Borne on the whirlwind wheel and fiery hoof?
From whence thou camest forth to realms of sight,
With Moses on the mount in radiant light;
And by the gifted eye of Faith wast seen
In the stern Baptist's vest and awful mien.

From Heav'n's calm mansions and ethereal cell,
Where thou beyond the summer clouds dost dwell,
Wilt thou again upon the earth appear,
In living form, or type, or vision clear,
To harbinger the great Elisha's sway,
The coming in of the eternal day?

Full much we need thee, and thy mantle strong,
To part the rising waters! Envious wrong
And filial disobedience lift on high
Their swelling waves, and seem to threat the sky.

251

ELISHA.

The great Elisha may I call Thy name,
Eternal Saviour, and be free from blame?
E'en as the sun, in things of meanest worth,
His coming and his going shadows forth
From image unto image, so art Thou
Full oft anew revealed; Elijah now
Lone wandering, then Elisha's loftier seat,
The Son of man, and then the Paraclete.

Thou wast mysterious veil'd in growing bread;
Thou in the sacramental oil didst shed
Thine undiminish'd Spirit, flowing o'er
The widow'd Church's vessels evermore.

It is Thy figure in the dead man's bones,
Where charnel'd death life-giving virtue owns;
'Tis Thou in unapproached purity,
Who smit'st Thy foes with eyes that cannot see;
While Thine own friends discern a rampart round,
Where cars and horse of living flame abound.
It was Thy word turn'd the baptismal wave
Of Jordan to Thy blood with power to save.
May we in that sure word, that cannot fail,
Strike seven times, and seven times prevail!

252

ISAIAH.

Deep vision'd son of Amoz! with fix'd gaze
And full-tranc'd eyelid, when the illumin'd rays
Fell on thy heart, and to thy ravish'd sense
Rose future scenes hid in Omnipotence:—

Whether when Hell was mov'd, and from its throne
Arose to greet the crown-less Babylon,
Or lifted earth, and the descending sky
In vocal gladness blend, as feeling nigh
The coming of th'eternal Jubilee;
And mountains find a voice, and the glad sea
Listens with all his isles: or from thy brow
A hand unseen the curtain lifts, and, lo,
Dread judgments lower o'er guilty Israel;
And, by near shadows made more visible,
Bright scenes come forth; like landscapes, baffling thought,
Pictur'd afar on hanging clouds, and brought
To a strange nearness; fairer than the state
Which evening pours upon Heav'n's western gate,
Or music opens, with a touch of light
Bringing lost Eden on the inward sight.

At every turn the Man of sorrow stands,
Bearing the key to those unearthly lands.

253

JEREMIAH.

“Come, see, was ever sorrow like to mine?”
What more than human woe, dread Voice, is thine,
While armed shapes of terror throng the cloud,
Which over Judah brings destruction's shroud?
Carrying our griefs, and supplicating still,
It is the Man of sorrows climbs the hill
Of Calvary: o'er Salem shedding tears,
In Anathoth's sad Seer He witness bears.

“Come, see, was ever sorrow like to mine?”
From age to age still sounds that voice divine,
Still Sion's virgin daughter heaves the sigh,
“Say, is it nought to you, ye that pass by?”

Ye Heav'ns, be hung with sackcloth, and thou earth
Shorn of thy beauty! let the robe of dearth
Clothe the green mountains! they their Maker own,
But of mine Israel I am not known.
“Seek ye the ancient paths, and ye shall live,”
But they cry out, “we will not.” I would strive,
But strong-arm'd vengeance, as it grows more deep,
Holds them in her embrace and lays asleep,
While I o'er your destruction watch and pine,—
“Come, see, was ever sorrow like to mine?”

254

EZEKIEL.

Lend me the key which opes the secret cells,
Where, in His words and works, the Godhead dwells.

As nearer we approach Him, all things throng
Vocal with heav'nly language, and a tongue
Speaking in figure, where the East descries
The glowing footsteps of th'unfolded skies.

By Chebar's flood, around the prophet come
Dread speaking faces, peopling all the gloom,
And Cherubim with Cherubim do ply
Their wheeling wings, and fiery shapes pass by.
Or, with the swiftness of a flying star,
He in Jerusalem is found afar.
Now Egypt, the great dragon, netted lies
'Mid his own waters; or the seas arise
O'er Tyre, the princely ship that walk'd the waves;
Now Lebanon's Cedar the strong tempest braves.

E'en now, as then, in images of fire
Men see the flashes of th'Almighty's ire,
Admire, and tremble not; they come around
And listen to the Church, as to the sound
Of a sweet lovely song, or tuneful reed,
And hear her awful voice, but do not heed.

255

DANIEL.

We sit beside the streams of Babylon,
'Neath willowy shades, and hang our harps thereon,
Rememb'ring Sion. What strong chords of love
Shall bind the exile to his home above?

Lov'd intercessor, thou the arts canst tell,
Which draw from Heav'n that all-constraining spell;
Whether thou sitt'st by Hiddekel's broad stream,
Or where on Ulai sleeps the noonday beam;
Or stand'st with outstretch'd hands in palace hall,
Where fiery characters night's shades appal.

It is in stedfast prayer the earnest eyes
Set toward the living temple of the skies,—
Stern hardihood, 'mid fasts and watches won,—
And that pure lamp that shall outshine the sun,
The virgin soul,—these, in thy breast inurn'd,
All glowing thoughts to love seraphic turn'd:
Until an ear in wakeful trance was given,
Converse to hold with pursuivants of Heaven;
An eye, the shapes in Time's dark womb to scan,
And see amid the clouds the Son of Man;
A better boon than sons or daughters fair,
To find a place within God's House of Prayer.

257

The Pillars of the Choir.

APOSTLES.

“Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God.” Rev. iii. 12.

“And the wall of the City had twelve foundations; and in them the names of the twelve Apostles of the Lamb.” Rev. xxi. 14.

258

ST. PETER.

With what full eyes of wonder wast thou bent
Upon each passing look, each act intent,
Fix'd on the Son of Man with earnest gaze,
While on thy heart the Father shed His rays,
Till gradual He disclos'd the mighty whole,
And the dread Godhead open'd on thy soul!

As step by step thou followedst close around
And nearest, deeper spells thy spirit bound,
Watching each light, and shade, and speaking glance,
That mark'd Thy Master's awful countenance:
Till, unreveal'd of man, thy God and Lord
Thy tongue acknowledg'd, and thy heart ador'd;
And thou wast meet to climb unto the fount
Of glory, seen on Tabor's secret mount.
Thence to that faith, as to a firm-set rock,
With thee the ransom'd of all ages flock,
Where the dread Twelve are met, who hold the keys
Which ope and close Heav'n's ivory palaces.

Thus some fair star, on its ethereal way,
Seems gazing on the golden orb of day,
And drinks his radiance, till itself, made bright,
When the Sun sinks, for others lights the night.

259

ST. ANDREW.

Oh that, ere death shall close my eyes in sleep,
I might behold that Galilean deep,
Sun-gilded waves, and hill-embosom'd strand,
Where Andrew dwelt with his fraternal band!
Andrew, who saw and heard the Living Word,
And came, and then brought Peter to the Lord:
Andrew, next added to that favour'd three,
School'd in Christ's lore upon their native sea.

Blest sight! to see those heights which round them clos'd,
When holy eyes on their dark shapes repos'd;
To watch those gales which came upon the deep,
When in that hold their Lord was laid asleep;
To see those rocks where dwelt their thoughts of home,
And 'neath that glowing firmament to roam,
Move on the sea they moved, and there behold
The moon and stars which they beheld of old!

But ah, far more, when death hath clos'd my eyes,
Might I but see, beyond those eastern skies,
By Andrew led, where, round our Saviour's feet,
The holy Twelve in sweet communion meet
In their last haven, on that stable shore,
Beside that crystal sea for evermore!

260

ST. JAMES THE GREAT.

One of that chosen three, who found such grace
To be admitted to the secret place
Of His life-giving Presence, from the sight
Of the rude world there lost in radiant light.
Nor know we ought of thee,—the great and good,
The son of thunder, and baptiz'd in blood,—
Nor thought, nor word, nor deed. 'Tis ever so:
In shadow of His hand He hides below
Those who His Presence seek; Himself unseen
And His good Angels, in that blissful skreen
He gathers them in silence, to abide
Beneath His shrouding wings and sheltering side.
Tho' visibly beheld 'mid suffering men,
His name is “Secret;” nor can mortals ken
His Sion's haunts, the mount invisible,
Where He 'mid Saints and Angels deigns to dwell.

Whether allow'd to Tabor's secret height,
Or sorrows of Gethsemane, or sight
And solemn chambers of relenting death,
Where Heav'n's full power is seen o'er parting breath;
The world but sees them share His humbling rod
Unto the door;—then leaves them with their God.

261

ST. JOHN.

“Amen. E'en so, Lord Jesus, come.” O why
Tarry so long Thy chariot-wheels, while I,
I only yet remain, and, one by one,
The tried companions of Thy Love are gone;
And I, all dearest treasures gone before,
Am left upon the solitary shore?

So better may I learn “Thy will be done;”
For whom have I in Heav'n, but Thee alone?
And whom have I on earth, but only Thee?
Therefore, with one foot on the stormy sea,
And one foot fix'd on the eternal strand,
Thou hold'st me by Thy never-failing hand.
Before Thy face, that bringeth in the day,
The mountains and the hills shall flee away,
The sun and stars in darkness make their bed,
And forth the Bridal City shall be led;
For Thy blest City needs not sun or moon,
But in Thy face hath its unwaning noon.
Therefore alone in Thy eternal Love
I seek for refuge; Thee in Heav'n above,
And Thee below! Blest they, who day and night
Serve Thee, and have their dwelling in Thy sight!

262

ST. PHILIP.

Hast Thou so long been with us, gracious Lord,
And yet have we not known Thee? while Thy word
Within us and about us wraps around,
Impalpable as th'air? Thine eye is found
In th'heart of hearts, and Thy sustaining hand;
And all events, arrang'd at Thy command,
Are but th'unfoldings of a Father's care,
Unsought for, and responsive to our prayer,—
And yet have we not known Thee? have we brought
Others to thee, and Thy true wisdom taught,—
And yet not known Thee? By our home retreat,
Our own Bethsaida, “Have ye here no meat?”
Thou seem'st to say, that so Thou mightest lead
To feel our own deep want, in that our need,
Of all true bread that satisfies, that we
Might turn, and hang our famish'd souls on Thee;
Thousands at Thy good word with food abound,
And shew that Thy live presence dwells around,—
And yet have we not known Thee? have not known
The all-transcending circle and the crown
Of Thy deep Love?—still know Thee not, nor find
The Father's image within Thee enshrin'd?

263

ST. BARTHOLOMEW.

Come forth, Nathanael, from the fig-tree's shade,
And see, where, down yon mountain's solemn glade,
The lowly Nazareth, in the summer even,
Shines in the sunbeams, like a gate of Heaven!
'Mid those poor walls, Heav'n opens to thy prayer,
And Angels pass upon the crystal stair.

And who within that tabernacle's light
Shall dwell, but thou, the guileless Israelite?
Thine is the art of artless souls, true seer!
To know thy God in all things standing near.
Divine prerogative! The blameless soul,
Its own simplicity its sweet controul,
Leads on, and, like a guardian spirit, brings
Into the Palace of the King of kings,
The Mount of God. To him all nature stirs,
Ranging herself in glowing characters;
Seen thro' Faith's light'ning mirror; blooming skies
Come down on earth and sea, like vernal dyes,
Speaking of Resurrection;—all are rife
And animate with forms of beauteous life,
Unseen before; 'mid busiest scenes below,
The messengers of Mercy come and go.

264

ST. MATTHEW.

Nor Pharisaic school, nor harness'd train
Of Roman state, nor pow'r, nor thoughtful gain,
Nor breezy lake, where circling mountains rise,
Nor Lebanon's snowy top in summer skies,
Could to thy longing eyes afford repose,
Good Levi, till they found the Man of woes!

Beneath thy lowly roof I see Him come,
An honour'd guest,—the Pharisee's stern gloom
Sitting aloof,—in calm and humble gaze
The Galilean twelve,—th'half-pleas'd amaze
Of Publicans,—and mourning Eremite
Shrinking apart; yet seen, or out of sight,
Manifold words of wisdom find them out,
And in each heart an eye that looks throughout.

But, lo, again his hospitable store
Levi prepares, unfolding wide the door
Of his blest Gospel, 'neath whose sacred roof
All may behold the Christ, and learn by proof.
E'en now, as then, within each secret soul
An eye is found, seek we or shun controul,
All see the Son of Man; each doth invest
His form with the deep hues of his own breast.

265

ST. THOMAS.

Blessed are they who, needing no loud sign
Of reason, or felt proof, or voice divine,
Believing, love; and, loving, ask not sight!
They on the bosom of the Infinite
Have been, and there in Faith for ever lie;
Believe because they love, and ask not why:
But on His bosom lie they all day long,
And drink His words, and are refresh'd and strong;
Thro' all Thy works, Thee, Lord, at every turn,
Thro' all Thy word, Thee and Thy Cross discern;
Shrine within shrine, and hall encircling hall,
Pass unto Thee, to Thee, the All in All.

Thine too are they, of ruder sense, who deem
Such thoughts but fancies of the mystic's dream;
Then, to their questioning and ruder sense,
In palpable and solemn evidence
Thy presence breaks, in providential change
Defying thought, or visitation strange:
They see and feel Thy hands and pierced side,
Worship, and their adoring heads would hide.
Such dwell in Thy blest courts, and see Thy face,
But not most near Thine altar have their place.

266

ST. JAMES THE LESS.

Where death's deep shade the ruin'd Salem shrouds,
A covenanted bow amid the clouds
Opens a brighter city to disclose,
Wherein the Son of Man, in dread repose,
Is walking 'mid the candlesticks of gold,
And the seven stars in His right hand doth hold.

First in the kingdom of the Crucified,
Unto the Son of God in flesh allied,
And more allied in suffering, James, the Just,
Bears the new keys of Apostolic trust.

And well we deem that 'twas thine only pride
To bear the cross on which thy Master died,
In daily dying; by self-chast'ning care,
Vigil, and fast, to unloose the wings of Prayer
From bodily weight, and win Faith's hallow'd spell,
Which breaks from captive souls the chains of hell.

So putt'st thou on Christ's loyal poverty,
Looking thro' earth, as with an Angel's eye,
With all its wealth like the fair flow'ring grass,
Whereon Christ's words of woe already pass
Like some hot burning wind: while Patience mild
Drinks Heav'n's pure light, and vigour undefil'd.

267

ST. JUDE.

One glory kindles night's aërial blue,
But clothes each star with its distinctive hue;
One light from crystal dew-drops on the thorn
Calls forth the varied jewels of the morn:
And, in that little band of Jesus blest,
To whom our Lord “Himself did manifest,”
And who on Him in answ'ring love are bent,
Faith doth in each a varying form present.

Thus that deep voice, O Jude, is all thine own,
Tho' Christ is heard in thy dread warning tone,
And speaks in thee, exhorting with arm'd heed
To wrestle for the everlasting Creed.

Unfolding ever to our feeble sight
In endless forms, we see the Infinite;
Nor doth the varied human countenance,
So manifold in shape and speaking glance,
Range through more boundless changes, than doth Love
In spirits which are born of God above.

Thus, Lord, when, from Thy vessels of rude clay,
Thou makest up Thy jewels on that day,
Their diverse hues, with Thy pure lustre sown,
Shall blend to form Thy many-colour'd crown.

268

ST. SIMON.

O Thou, who art th'eternal Corner-stone,
And bearest up Heav'n's pillar'd frame alone;
Thou art the Light that fills each living gem,
Which glimmers in Thy Church's diadem!
Thou art her Crown: the stars which round her shine
Are but the effulgence of Thy fire divine;
Thy Wisdom in the Twelve made manifest,
The Urim and the Thummim on Thy breast,
Sole Living Priest! 'twas Thy heart-glowing light
That burn'd within the zealous Canaanite;
Thou who did'st drive the buyers to the door,
And with Thy mantle sweep Thy Father's floor!
O wrath most merciful! portentous sign
Of Thy last coming, arm'd with wrath divine!

Do Thou my heart with holy zeal controul,
And purify the temple of my soul,
Drive each foul thought with Thine uplifted rod,
Which stains the floor Thy holy feet have trod;
A den of evil fancies, whence arise
Far other fumes than love of Thee supplies:—
Oh, cleanse my heart betimes, ere Thou shalt come,
And sweep Thy temple with eternal doom!

269

ST. MATTHIAS.

From Abraham's breast, 'mid heav'nly towers on high,
Death's lake is seen, and heard the dismal cry:
From Salem's heights, dread Sodom's sea of doom
Is o'er the hills descried in fiery gloom:
'Mid that small band, for Heav'n's high mandate seal'd,
Hell opens, and a Judas is reveal'd.

Dread thought of terror! Heav'n the rescu'd crown
Holds, and on just Matthias lets it down;
Sent forth of Him who was sent forth of God,
And arm'd with nought but His supporting rod.

Oh, by that Cross on which Thou deign'st to die,
Let that staff bear me Death's dark valley by!—
Thine was the Patriarch's staff, when Jordan's strand
He pass'd, and thence return'd a two-fold band;—
Thine was the staff Elisha sent before,
The staff of health which false Gehazi bore.

From this new morn until th'eternal Day,
That pastoral staff must be the pilgrim's stay;
From this new morn, when, from its wintry blight,
Springs the new year, and day is mast'ring night.
Still, wheresoe'er the grounded staff shall pass,
The sea divides,—wide opes the watery mass.

270

The Western Window.

THE NATIVITY.

“And the City had no need of the Sun, neither of the Moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.” Rev. xxi. 23.

Sweet sounds on high this night have birth,
And sounds as sweet on earth;
Where Heav'n is heard, from a bright stooping cloud,
With music ringing loud:
Less than angelic voice might well be mute,
Such more than heavenly theme to suit.

The stars of night are drawing near,
Each on his crystal sphere,
That Angel's voice to hear;
And, from their mazy rout,
That walks the Heav'ns about,
They send a silver scout,

271

A glowing pursuivant,
To lead the hearts and eyes
Of men celestial wise,
To where, around the homely shed of want,
The Infinite deep skies their legion'd squadrons plant.

See, the rays, His brows adorning,
Are the light of endless morning,
From that lowly cradle shining;
O'er the Heav'n-born babe reclining,
With a more than speaking gaze
Blending joy with dread amaze,
Hangs the holy Mother maid:
While, within the darker shade,
Comes there round a wond'ring group,—
Some gaze, and some adoring stoop;
And the ox with horned brow
Stands beside; and, bending low,
He whose shoulders graven deep
Aye his Master's mark shall keep,
Unconscious that their Lord is there,
Their heritage of pain to bear.

See throughout the casement drear
The old mountains standing near:
Is it Heav'n, or is it earth,
Which is gath'ring round His birth?

272

For within the womb of night
There hath sprung unwonted light:
Lo, where, startled at the day,
Darkness looks into the room:
And, afar, within the gloom
War and Rapine haste away
From light, around His childhood streaming;
And, with half-averted brow,
Pride is hast'ning down below,
'Mid the darker shadows gleaming.

Hasten with light-footed glee,
Let us join the jubilee,
Where the shepherd and the king,
And angelic squadrons sing;—
Over sea, and over land,
Knitted in one brother's band;
Where the joyous accents run,
Never ending, ne'er begun,
And the Heav'ns take up the song,
With harmonious thunders strong,
And twice ten thousand worlds the wondrous theme prolong.

273

The Side Windows.

ANCIENT FATHERS.

“Behold, I will lay thy stones with fair colours, and lay thy foundations with sapphires; and I will make thy windows of agates.” Isaiah liv. 11, 12.

“And they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament.” Daniel xii. 3.

274

CLEMENT OF ROME.

As heavenly blue breaks on a troubled deep,
A voice of gentle blame,
From the calm grave where Paul and Peter sleep,
Unto their children came,
From Rome to Corinth. O'er the rising din
It swell'd, as from their purer seats above,
And, like a solemn undersound therein,
Paul's moving tone. It was thy watchful love,
Clement, whose name is in the book of life;
The while thy Church, true to Heav'n's sacred mould,
'Mid persecution, poverty, and strife,
Glorious within, and wrought of purest gold,
Began 'mid hanging mists her greatness to unfold.

275

IGNATIUS.

As, one by one, stars on the eastern space
Come forth, while day-light fades,
And greet each other to their heavenly place,
Thus, while death's deepening shades
Darken around thy steps in stranger lands,
Sweet awful memories of thine own St. John
Wake round thee; martyr'd Peter beck'ning stands,
And stirs again the Spirit's benison
Giv'n thro' his hands: upon the selfsame road,
Lo, the bright footsteps of the death-bound Paul!
Thy soul is fann'd to burning hardihood;
We hear in thee the Bridegroom's warning call,
And full of glowing life thy dying accents fall.

276

POLYCARP.

Angel of Smyrna, child of John,
And friend of that beloved one,
Belov'd of Him whose love is life,
How didst thou, left to worldly strife,
Bear with thee, as in holiest trance,
The music of that countenance,
Which spoke the wisdom of the skies
And his own Master's charities?
Again that voice from Patmos came
With auguries of thy couch of flame,
And bore his Saviour's praise to thee,
Whose praise is immortality,—
“To death be faithful Me to own,
And I will give to thee life's never-fading crown.”

277

JUSTIN.

Upon the solitary shore
Stood Justin, wrapt in Plato's lore,
Seeking, with self-abstracted mind,
The beatific light to find.
A grey hair'd man on that lone wild,
With venerable aspect mild,
Before him came, and bade him scan
Visions too high for sinful man:—
“Pray thou to God both day and night
“To ope to thee the gates of light,
“Reveal'd of God in Christ alone.”
In Justin's breast a fire was sown;—
Borne heav'n-ward in that glowing flame,
His mantle he let fall, a Martyr's honour'd name.

278

IRENÆUS.

From new-born Lyons oft thy memory turn'd
Unto the earlier east, and fondly yearn'd
For Polycarp and Smyrna, and the youth
Of grave Religion fair. But wakeful Truth
Within Tradition's holy citadel
Kept watch, and her stamp'd treasures guarded well,
Her Apostolic store; thou by her light
Didst guide the bark amid the gathering night
Of heresies, and th'helm didst sternly hold,
Lifting a martyr's voice, serene and bold.
Would that again thy city of the Rhone
Might break her Roman bonds, and thee her champion own!

279

TERTULLIAN.

How art thou fallen! seeking 'mid the stars
To set thy nest; unloos'd from fleshly bars,
Striving the chasten'd soul “to wind too high”
For one encompass'd with humanity!
Could not thy Mother's milk and quiet breast
Suffice thee, nurturing to Eden's rest?
Thou wast her glory; and the fiend of pride
Ne'er could have won thee from her peaceful side,
Were he not trick'd in guise of lowliness.
Thou art her glory still; and she no less
Puts on the armouries of thy soberer soul,
And reads from thy sad fall her lesson of controul.

280

CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA

Methought I saw a face divinely fair,
With nought of earthly passion; the mild beam
Of whose bright eye did in mute converse seem
With other countenances, and they were,
Gazing on her, made beautiful. Their theme
Was One that had gone up the heavenly stair,
And left a fragrance on this lower air,
The contemplation of His Love supreme.
And that high form held forth to me a hand:—
It was celestial Wisdom, whose calm brow
Did of those earthly Sciences inquire,
If they had of His glory ought retain'd:—
Yes! I would be admitted to your choir,
That I may nothing love on earth below.

281

ORIGEN.

Into God's word, as in a palace fair,
Thou leadest on and on, while still, beyond
Each chamber, touch'd by holy Wisdom's wand,
Another opes, more beautiful and rare;
And thou in each art kneeling down in prayer,
From link to link of that mysterious bond
Seeking for Christ; but oh, I fear thy fond
And beautiful torch, that with so bright a glare
Lighteth up all things, lest thy Heaven-lit brand
And thy serene Philosophy divine
Should take the colourings of earthly thought,
And I, by their sweet images o'erwrought,
Led by weak Fancy, should let go Truth's hand,
And miss the way into the inner shrine.

282

CYPRIAN.

The lions prowl around, thy grave to guard,
And Moslem prayers profane
At morn and eve come sounding: yet, unscar'd,
The holy Shades remain;—
Cyprian, thy chief of watchmen, wise and bold,
Trusting the lore of his own loyal heart,
And Cyprian's Master, as in age high-soul'd,
Yet choosing as in youth the better part.
There, too, unwearied Austin, thy keen gaze
On Atlas' steep, a thousand years and more,
Dwells, waiting for the first rekindling rays,
When Truth upon the solitary shore
For the fall'n West may light his beacon as of yore.

γ.

283

DIONYSIUS OF ALEXANDRIA.

Tho' thy sweet eloquent spirit knew no chains,
In thought's o'erflowing store,
Lost are thy letter'd toils,—scarce aught remains,—
Lost on Oblivion's shore!
Yet not all lost; but laid upon His breast
In whom they have their origin and end.
Part He conceals, and part makes manifest,
Each as may best to His good purpose tend.
It matters not,—for we must soon be gone,
And things of earth most cherish'd, are like hues
Of sun-set, fading from us one by one,
Tho' heavenly rays a passing grace infuse;
Till ours and our own selves we in His Being lose.

284

HIPPOLYTUS.

Martyr and Bishop, honour'd name,
Thine earthly place unknown,
Whom East and West alike may claim,
But neither prove their own!

Thine eye seems watching every where,
And every where divines
The Antichrist approaching near,
'Mid dread portending signs.

Thus like a spirit, with subtle grace,
Thou thro' all lands dost glide!
For he who no where hath his place
Doth every where abide;

Of Antichrist meet harbinger:—
For 'neath each distant sky
He nor in time, nor place can err,
Who deems Christ's coming nigh.

285

GREGORY THAUMATURGUS.

Thine Angel led thee by the hand
To thy lov'd Origen,
Taught to forget thy father's land,
And sit with holy men.

Thro' varied wilds of knowledge fair
He lur'd to sacred lore,
And bade thee knock with earnest prayer,
Till Faith should ope the door.

And well I ween that at Heav'n-gate
Thy hand did knock, till Love
Came forth, all arm'd with unseen state,
The mountains to remove.

For thou art known to latest time
The “wonder-working” sage,
Who could a rude barbaric clime
To Christian Love engage.

286

ATHANASIUS.

A sea of troubles tried thee, till at length,
Borne back by thy strong sinew, they uprear'd
Thy might, and sternly bore thee in thy strength
Onward, till on the Eternal Rock appear'd
Truth's loyal champion, to all time rever'd,

Great Athanasius! beaten by wild breath
Of calumny, of exile, and of wrong,
Thou wert familiar grown with frowning death,
Looking him in the face all thy life long,
Till thou and he were friends, and thou wert strong.

The “Eye of Alexandria,” rais'd on high,
Unto all Christendom a beacon light:
Thou from our tossing waves, and stormy sky,
Art in thy peaceful haven hid from sight;
But still thy name hath leave to guide us thro' the night.

287

AMBROSE.

To thee an eye to trace out the third Heaven
In holy writ, and see the mercy-throne,—
A brother's love,—a poet's lyre was given,
But yet o'er all thy gifts the Pastor shone,
To God's high altar bound, no more thine own.

I see thee stand before the injur'd shrine,
While Theodosius to thy stern decree
Falls down, and owns the keys and power divine;
For kings that fain her nursing sires would be,
To the Eternal Bride must bow the knee.

I see thee thron'd upon the Teacher's seat,—
And 'mid the crowd a silent wand'rer steal:
In his sad breast, while sitting at thy feet,
The Father doth th'eternal Son reveal,
And Austin from thy hands receives the Spirit's seal.

288

BASIL.

Beautiful flowers round Wisdom's secret well,
Deep holy thoughts of penitential lore,
But dress'd with images from Nature's store,
Handmaid of Piety! Like thine own cell,
By Pontic mountain wilds and shaggy fell,
Great Basil! there, within thy lonely door,
Watching, and Fast, and Prayer, and Penance dwell,
And sternly nurs'd Affections heavenward soar.
Without are setting suns and summer skies,
Ravine, rock, wood, and fountain melodies;
And Earth and Heav'n, holding communion sweet,
Teem with wild beauty. Such thy calm retreat,
Blest Saint! and of thyself an emblem meet,
All fair without, within all stern and wise.

289

GREGORY NAZIANZEN.

Meek Nazianzen, whom a mother's love
Vow'd from the womb, a Christian Nazarite!
A friend's, a brother's care fill'd thy calm sprite,
And filial grace serene: the hallowing Dove
Then open'd thy full heart to God above,
Seeking in solitudes the gentler light
Of woods and wilds, peace-loving eremite!
Good Basil! thy companion gently prove,
Shrinking from pastoral cares: and may Heav'n's King
His service not reject, nor choice refuse!
Each for his sphere He mouldeth: each doth earn
His place from Him; His Dove hath many hues,
Some lead His flock, while some His praises sing;
Some in His inner Temple incense burn.

290

HILARY.

Star of the West! when all the skies grew dark,
And Arian clouds conceal'd Heav'n's genial eye,
Christ sent thee forth to guide His labouring ark,
From His own peaceful palace ever nigh;
Still where thy Church her annual pathway steers,
High in the Heav'ns thy radiant sign appears.

Angel of Poictiers, Aquitanian Saint!
Exile to thee was drawing nearer home;
For where Christ is was home to thee;—the plaint
Of thy bereaved Church doth thence become
Her gladness, when she welcomes thee return'd,
And hails the light which in thine exile burn'd.

291

CYRIL OF JERUSALEM.

From the Archangel on Heav'n's highest stair,
And Seraphim and Cherubim around,
Unto the lowest child of sin and care,—
To each and all, as meet recipients found,
By Nature's works, or Word, or Spirit's seal,
'Tis Christ alone the Father doth reveal.

Cyril, on Salem's apostolic throne,
Or where the humbler Catechist doth stand,
'Tis Christ in thee that takes each little one
Into His arms, and leads him by the hand
Into the inner temple, fill'd with light,
And bathes in fountains of the Infinite.

292

EPIPHANIUS.

Alas! that strifes should come, e'en at the tomb,
'Twixt thee and Chrysostom,
Good Epiphanius! by the zeal of truth
Kindling to second youth.
Though Faith's sure anchor doth thy vessel save
From error's wind and wave,
Yet 'neath the keel is heard the ocean's roar,
At anchor, not on shore.
But so the eremite's stern solitude
Thy spirit hath imbued,
That heavenly Contemplation is thy cell,
And Prayer thy citadel;
And so hath nurs'd to alms and charities,
That favour'd Salamis
Might deem to thee the gentle soul to pass
Of her own Barnabas.

293

GREGORY NYSSEN.

Brother of Basil, Nazianzen's friend,
In love that hath no end,
Brac'd by reproof and knit by charity,
In holy wisdom free!
Nyssa doth, from her breast by exile torn,
Her Nicene champion mourn:
But Judah's haunts his reverent zeal hath trod,
And trac'd the steps of God.
Yet not on Calvary's angel-haunted ground
His spirit rest hath found,
But that, where'er God is, from earthly woes
The pilgrim finds repose.
He gathers up Truth's fragments that remain
In Basil's golden strain;
And goes to seek him in his unseen rest,
Asleep on Jesus' breast.

294

CHRYSOSTOM.

Preacher and Saint, whose name is Eloquence,
Well call'd they “Golden” thine impassion'd tongue,
On which Truth sat, and glowing manly sense,
And words that stand the fire,—in wisdom strong,

And strong in charity. Th'imperial town
Throng'd round thee, and drunk in thy stern reproof,
Touch'd by thy saintly spirit; vice hung down
Her flower-wreath'd head, court-favour stood aloof.

Nor less thy zeal, in Nazianzen's chair,
That the King's daughter with her priestly choir
Might shine within. While thus thy deeds declare
Christ's presence, wonder not if fiends conspire

Against thee, forc'd near the rude Caspian main
To drink thy Master's cup, in exile, want, and pain.

295

AUGUSTINE.

As when the sun hath climb'd a cloudy mass,
And looks at noon on some cathedral dim,
Each limb, each fold, in the translucent glass,
Breaks into hues of radiant Seraphim;

So, sainted Bishop! in the letter'd store
Which still enfolds thy spirit fled from sight,
Comment, prayer, homily, or learned lore,
Christ bathes each part with His transforming light

Late ris'n in thee. Thence all is eloquent
With flowing sweetness; o'er each rising pause
Thou build'st in untir'd strength; through all is sent
The Word pleading for His most righteous laws.

For thy sick soul, by baptism's seal reliev'd,
Deep in her brackish founts th'all-healing Cross receiv'd.

296

CYRIL OF ALEXANDRIA.

The sword which Christ on earth hath sent,
With olive branches twine:
To suffer it with meek content,
But not to wield be thine;
Tho' round thy throne in tumult strong
Thine Alexandrians loudly throng;
So He into its wounds shall pour His oil and wine.

Be thine the keener edge to wield
Of the unfailing Word;
And shelter with the Spirit's shield
The doctrine of the Lord!
Where Ephesus hath guarded well
The mother of Emmanuel,
And from Nestorian leav'n the Church again restor'd.

297

JEROME.

The peaceful star of Bethlehem
Came o'er thy solitude,
The radiance of that heav'nly gem
Lit up thy sterner mood;
Yea, like a star in murky wells,
Cheering the bed where darkness dwells,
The images of earth its happier light endued.

The thought of the Eternal Child
Upon thy cloistral cell
Must sure have cast an influence mild,
And, like a holy spell,
Have peopled that fair Eastern night
With dreams meet for an eremite,
Beside that cradle poor bidding the world farewell.

298

The Eastern Window.

THE CRUCIFIXION.

“Seeing we are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, . . . let us run with patience the race that is set before us, “Looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our Faith.” xii. 1, 2.

If there be ought of health in these Thy Saints,
Reliev'd from mortal taints,
'Tis but that they their feeble thoughts have rais'd,
And upon Thee have gaz'd;
And follow'd Thee from Bethlehem's lowly room,
To Calvary's solemn gloom.

Then let us hang our eyes and hearts on Thee,
And dwell upon Thy dying agony
On the accursed tree!
There let us flee, as to a holy tower
Against the world; and learn the silent power
Of that sad awful hour!

299

Thy suffering opes to us the heav'nly gate,
And nought to Thee can raise our fallen state,
But our own selves to hate:
For suffering only and self-sacrifice
Can fix the heart where Faith her God descries—
Within the op'ning skies.
From Bethlehem's stable, with the beasts around,
To Calvary, 'tween two thieves on cursed ground,
Thou didst with griefs abound,
And, like a cloke, wrap round thee all our shame,
While rough rude words of mockery mar Thy name,
And toil and pain Thy frame.
Tamar and Rahab stain Thy lineage;
Foul Egypt cradles thy first tender age,
Judah pursues with rage.
Nazareth, of evil name, Thy childhood rears,
And then drives from her; next Thy sojourn bears,
But nurseth more Thy tears,
Capernaum, worse than Sodom. No kind roof
Shelters Thee; Thine own household stand aloof,
Or taunt with cold reproof.
Thy Kingly court a Galilean few,
And scorn'd by Galilean and by Jew,
An outcast heathen crew.
Thy Kingly Coming to Thy Salem proud,
Was sitting at a leper's 'mid the crowd,
Anointed for Thy shroud.

300

Thine entrance, for the King of sorrows meet,
Was shedding tears o'er Thine imperial seat
Rejoicing at Thy feet.
Nor only Thine High Priest hath witness borne,
But the whole council, met on that dread morn,—
And Herod in his scorn,—
And the whole people,—yea, for these sole ends
The Pharisee and Sadducee are friends.
A chosen one that tends
Thy watchings and Thy walks is found alone
The fit Arch-traitor; Thine own Twelve disown;
E'en Peter hath not known.
They for a murderer cry aloud, nor cease,
Lest a relenting heathen should release,
And spare the Prince of Peace.
E'en now Thine innocent sides with scourging bleed,
That Pity from their bleeding mouths might plead;
But they hear not nor heed.
The very scorn of men, a trampled worm,
The winds Thou temperest to each tender form,—
Thyself dost bear the storm!
Now rais'd on high, a kingly throne is giv'n;
Thine outstretch'd hands with fangs of iron riv'n:
O sight for earth and Heav'n!
'Mid dead men's bones and many an uncouth thing,
And such a crown and such apparelling,
Full meet for such a King!

301

And we would be Thy subjects, o'er and o'er
The world for evermore
Acts the same part against Thee, still the same
Tho' with a different name—
Caiaphas, Herod, Judas:—John alone
Beneath Thy Cross is known.

“I heard a great voice out of heaven, saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them . . .”

Rev. xxi. 3.

University of Virginia Library

PART IV. The Pillars AND The Windows.

The Pillars of the Nave.

PATRIARCHS AND PROPHETS.