The Poems of John Byrom Edited by Adolphus William Ward |
I. |
I. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
II. |
The Poems of John Byrom | ||
AN ANSWER TO SOME ENQUIRIES
CONCERNING THE AUTHOR'S OPINION OF A SERMON PREACHED AT --- UPON THE OPERATION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.
279
I
“Say to the Sermon?”—Why, you all were by,And heard its whole Contents, as well as I.
Without discussing what the Preacher said,
I'll tell you, Sirs, what came into my Head.
II
While he went on, and learnèdly perplextThe genuine Meaning of his chosen Text,
I cast my Eyes above him, and explor'd
The Dove-like Form upon the Sounding-board.
III
That Bird, thought I, was put there as a SignWhat Kind of Spirit guides a good Divine,
Such as at first taught Preachers to impart
That pure and simple Gospel to the Heart;—
IV
A perfect, plain, intelligible Rule,Without the dark Distinctions of the School
That, with a nice, sophistical Disguise,
Hide the clear Precepts from the People's Eyes.
280
V
Whatever Doctrine in one Age was trueMust needs be so in all succeeding too;
Tho' Circumstance may change, its inward Aim
Thro' ev'ry outward State is still the same.
VI
No thinking Christian can be pleas'd to hearMen who pretend to make the Scripture clear,
With low Remarks upon the Letter play,
And take the Spirit of it quite away.
VII
Be Time, or Place, or Person, or what will,Urg'd in Support of such a wretched Skill,
It all amounts but to a vain Pretence,
That robs the Gospel of its real Sense.
VIII
Taught by the Saviour and by holy Men,'Tis now the very same that it was then,
Not to be alter'd by unhallow'd Pains.
The World may vary, but the Truth remains.
IX
In consecrated Phrases one would thinkThat Priests and Pulpits were not made to sink.
Profaner Wits can do it that Disgrace;—
What need of holy Orders in the Case?
281
X
The modish, critical Haranguer heardMay be admir'd,—may be perhaps preferr'd,—
Who sinks the Dictates of the Sacred Page
Down to the Maxims of the present Age.
XI
But o'er his sounding Canopy why bringThe Harmless Dove to spread Its Hov'ring Wing?
How in the Church by such a Shape exprest
Fulness of Brain and Emptiness of Breast!
XII
Of Heads so fatten'd and of Hearts so starv'dA different Emblem'should, methinks, be carv'd:
The Owl of Athens, and not Sion's Dove,—
The Bird of Learning, not the Bird of Love.
The Poems of John Byrom | ||