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The Sanctuary

A Companion in Verse for the English Prayer Book. By Robert Montgomery

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Baptism of Infants.
  
  
  

Baptism of Infants.

‘Doubt ye not, therefore, but earnestly believe, that he will likewise favourably receive this present Infant.” —(Prayer Book.)

If Love celestial ne'er had said
Let children to mine arms be led,
Parents might shrink aghast
A creature into life to bring
Whose soul the curse of God may wring
When time and earth are past!—
But for the promise of baptismal grace
What sight so fearful as an infant-face?

312

All that a birth of flesh can give
Is but the awful doom,—to live!
A heritage of woe,
A destiny of guilt and death,
A curse inhaled at every breath
Life breathes from sin below!—
By grace unfoiled, destruction seems to lower
On the sad babe ere time can count an hour.
But at the font where Jesu stands
With greeting heart and gracious hands
Ready to clasp the child,—
Pale infant! there, a breath from heaven
Shall to thy dawning soul be given
Through Him the Saviour mild,
Who while He thunders from His regal throne
Loves the sweet age on earth He call'd His Own.
The Root of sacramental grace
Is the new Adam of our race,—
The Man Divine who bled;
Hence cometh an immortal birth
Beyond the parentage of earth
From our generic Head,
The Lord from heaven Whose vital spirit gives
The law by which the mystic Body lives.
More than our first-born parents knew
Before they proved to God untrue
Works a celestial gift;
Angels who on their trial stood
Exceed not this majestic good
Which may thy soul uplift:—
A child of God!—can seraphim aspire
To aught sublimer in their sinless choir?
From thee the curse is roll'd away;
Thy soul's new birth begins to-day
By cov'nant-right to all
Immunities and blessings high

313

The heart of Jesus can supply
To those who heed His call:—
Now to the stillness of thy soul is given,
Like breezeless water to reflect a heaven.
A city and a crown are thine
If thou be true to grace divine,
Bearing thy destined cross;—
Lo, on thy forehead lies the seal
Where symbol both and sign reveal
That life must gain by loss:
Firm to thy vow, beneath God's banner fight
And keep thy panoply of graces bright.
Christ guard thee now, thou little one!
His glory be thy shield and sun
Whate'er thy lot may be;
Incorp'rate with the Church thou art
And hence to thee will Heaven impart
The truth which maketh free,—
New prospects ope, new principles and powers
Rise into play and rule thine unborn hours.
And if in secret darkness lie
Those sacred germs which none descry
Dormant and cold within,
May God's reviving Breath awake
Till such dark bond of slumber break
And grace o'ermaster sin.—
That latent seed baptismal life bestows
Doth oft in elder hearts its buried power disclose.
How water word and grace combine
Their action with a work divine
In vain let reason ask:—
Children are awful mysteries
Within whose depth no spirit sees
But His,—who owns the task
Of overcoming through celestial birth
That born corruption which is bred from earth.

314

Hence! reas'ning sceptic, harsh and cold;
For never will thine eyes behold
Tokens which sense defy:
Nature in secret works her plan,
Her growth escapes the sight of man,
Then hush thy heartless cry:—
As if the weakness of the water could
Deprive the soul of sacramental good!
Hereafter as a priest and king,
Thy babe becomes a holy Thing,
An heir of grace and glory;
Mother! to whom such charge is given,
Now rear it for that throne in heaven
Scripture unveils before thee:
So discipline the dawning mind and will
That each some priesthood unto God may fill.
“Our Father!” now thy babe may cry
Whose elder Brother rules the sky,—
The Man Divine who came
By bleeding merit to atone
For all the guilt sad earth must own,
And give the child a name
New as that sacramental birth which then
Through water and The Spirit dawns in men.
Blest privilege! both deep and pure
Which might our trembling hearts assure
That we are Christ's indeed:
Our robe baptismal,—keep it white
And never wilt thou lose the right
Which marks the heavenly seed
Of all who, grafted into Christ by grace,
Born in the Church, are God's adopted race.
Oh that on man's expressive brow
Baptismal pureness beaming now
Maturer life might see!—
How should we bless that rite of heaven

315

Where grace is felt and sin forgiven
By mercy full as free,—
And find God's Spirit ne'er that man forsook
Who kept in age the vow his childhood took.
 

Col. i. 18.

Matt. x. 39.