University of Virginia Library

The Side Windows.

ANCIENT FATHERS.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

HIPPOLYTUS.

GREGORY THAUMATURGUS.

ATHANASIUS.

AMBROSE.

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.

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.

HILARY.

CYRIL OF JERUSALEM.

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.

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.

CHRYSOSTOM.

AUGUSTINE.

CYRIL OF ALEXANDRIA.

JEROME.