The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery Collected and Revised by the Author |
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FIRST SERMON. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery |  |
FIRST SERMON.
So felt the young Reformer, when he rose
Within thy square, high-fated Wittemberg!
Where the grey walls of St. Augustine's fane
Crumble in low decrepitude, and dust;
And from his pulpit, piled with simple planks,
Blew that loud trumpet of Salvation's truth,
Whose echoes yet the heart of empires stir.
Eye, cheek, and brow, with eloquence array'd
As though pure spirit would incarnate be,
Or mind intense would burn its dazzling way
And be apparent,—like a Saxon Paul
Flaming with truth, the fearless Herald pour'd
Himself in language o'er the list'ning throng
Around him! With a mental torrent ran
The rich discourse; and on that flood of mind
Nearer and nearer to the Lamb's white Throne
The soul was wafted, while for Christ he spake,
And hid himself behind the Cross he raised.
Within thy square, high-fated Wittemberg!
Where the grey walls of St. Augustine's fane
Crumble in low decrepitude, and dust;
And from his pulpit, piled with simple planks,
Blew that loud trumpet of Salvation's truth,
Whose echoes yet the heart of empires stir.
Eye, cheek, and brow, with eloquence array'd
As though pure spirit would incarnate be,
Or mind intense would burn its dazzling way
And be apparent,—like a Saxon Paul
Flaming with truth, the fearless Herald pour'd
Himself in language o'er the list'ning throng
Around him! With a mental torrent ran
The rich discourse; and on that flood of mind
Nearer and nearer to the Lamb's white Throne
The soul was wafted, while for Christ he spake,
And hid himself behind the Cross he raised.
A more than Hercules, to cleanse a church
Where priestly falsehood stabled all its guilt
Through cent'ries dark of domineering crime,
So seem'd he then; and in that sermon gave
A noble prelude of the trumpet-blast
Predestined from his daring lip to roll
Hereafter, when from lethargy and lies
He roused the Autocrat of Romish priests
In cruelty, and curses, till there came
An avalanche of everlasting truths
Down on the Popedom, in those thund'rous words
Which crush'd it, like th' apocalyptic Stone
Hurl'd by God's angel through the blood-red sea.
Where priestly falsehood stabled all its guilt
Through cent'ries dark of domineering crime,
So seem'd he then; and in that sermon gave
A noble prelude of the trumpet-blast
Predestined from his daring lip to roll
Hereafter, when from lethargy and lies
He roused the Autocrat of Romish priests
In cruelty, and curses, till there came
An avalanche of everlasting truths
Down on the Popedom, in those thund'rous words
Which crush'd it, like th' apocalyptic Stone
Hurl'd by God's angel through the blood-red sea.
| The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery | |