University of Virginia Library


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.