The Baptistery, or the way of eternal life :: :: University of Virginia Library

Peace.—
That vision of the holy Child,
Shrin'd in the bosom undefil'd,
Therein shall go from strength to strength,
Moulding His members, till at length
The New Man's stature shall unfold,
Growing in virtue meek and bold.

Penitence.—
Alas, the fetter on me lies
Of unbaptizèd phantasies,
And holds me, like an unseen weight,
Affection unregenerate.

Peace.—
Again, again thou must return
And of that holy Childhood learn;
Cloth'd in this form of wisdom mild,
He there would teach thee as a child,
To turn from manhood's wisdom high,
And learn of helpless infancy.

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Penitence.—
Daughter of Hope and holy Love,
Tell me, thou herald from above,
What is that emblem in the grove,
A babe, of fear unconscious, laid
Beneath an adder-haunted shade?

Peace.—
'Tis this that speaks thy nature's state,
Thus powerless left, and desolate,
Born in a world of serpent stings,
'Mid crawling worms and creeping things,
It helpless, hopeless, hapless lies,
And hath no language but its cries.

Penitence.—
I see him thus upon the ground
With deadly foes encompass'd round,
Prey of the venom'd tooth and lies,
And laden with infirmities;
Is this the embryo of the sky,
The child of immortality?

Peace.—
And this thy helplessness to know
Is thy best wisdom here below,
Yea, this to know is to be wise
In Heaven-revealèd mysteries;
This is the wisdom of the skies.

Penitence.—
From day to day on every side
Are we by new temptations tried,
Like serpents which around us creep,
While we seem bound in powerless sleep.

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To know ourselves is to confess
Our own unaided helplessness.

Peace.—
A child's true wisdom more and more
Learn by thy falls,—a spirit poor,—
The wisdom of its infant cries,
Which on a parent's hand relies—
The wisdom of its calls for aid;
This learn and thou art perfect made;
More wisdom this than Plato's schools,
And all the Stagyrite's sage rules,
Than learnèd bowers of Academe,
And fam'd Ilissus' golden stream.
On Jordan rests a brighter gleam,
Wherein the leprous, sin-defil'd,
Again becomes a little child.

Penitence.—
Now from His childhood I would turn,
That I might of His manhood learn;
His word doth break the captive's chains,
And that His word in fire remains,—
“Come unto Me, ye sin-oppress'd,
My very yoke shall be your rest,
'Tis I who heal all malady,
And set the sin-bound prisoner free.”
Lord, I have by experience known,
That all I have which is my own,
And whatsoe'er I virtue call,
Oft leads me to a heavier fall.
I make me cords to hold from wrong,
And bind my will by purpose strong,

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But my resolves, as cords of tow,
Before the strength of passion go,
Like hempen bonds which flames o'er-run,
Or icy streams before the sun.
But list, I hear a happier strain,
Like sunbeams bright that blend with rain,
Till both in rainbows fair remain!

Faith appearing.—
Lo, flying from a burning cave,
And wood that might have been their grave,
I saw two wights who sore withstood,
And fled the monster of the wood:
I dare not look to them again,
But fain would join thy solemn strain.
As I attain this path of light,
My chains drop from me, at the sight
Of Him whom I have seen below:
Sing we His praises as we go,
Less shall we feel our toilsome woe .

Penitence and Faith.—

Lord, who hast ta'en us by Thy hand,
'Tis only by Thy strength we stand;
Thou art the Way, the Truth, the Life,—
Yea, through this world of sin and strife,
Thy sheep is on Thy shoulders borne
By Thee unto the gates of morn.
Still do we see Thee All in All,
Still do we hear Thy loving call,
Not only by the gentle sign,
Thy still and lowly Voice divine;

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Not by the whisper of the gale,
Or beck'ning hand at ev'ning pale:
But by the cry (so strong and loud,
As that dread Voice heard from the cloud)
Of Thine example,—and Thy tears,—
And of Thy blood, which wakes our fears,—
And by the seal of Baptism given,—
And by a name that's writ in Heaven,—
And by the silence of the shrine,
Wherein our spirit cries to Thine,—
And by the scent of odours sweet,
That dwells around Thy sacred feet.

But who is this? some radiant friend
Doth from the portal bright descend,
With glittering arms and golden sheen,
Encompass'd, like a Heavenly Queen?

Virtue.—

On this bright road I come to meet
Pilgrims that seek the Heavenly seat;
Heard in the morning's dawning light,
Your love doth here my steps invite;
Which like the brooklet, clear and strong,
Sings as it speeds its course along.
As wakening from your nightly trance,
Ye onward on this road advance,
The Eye of day shall ope more clear,
And I be your interpreter.
Deep in the soul the vision springs,
Shewing in death immortal things:
Here in the mirror of the Word,
Each hath his own true lesson heard;

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Faith may therein his conflict view,
And Penitence his strength renew.

Come, and yourselves behold in them,—
Lo here that youth of Bethlehem,
Unharm'd upon the battle-field,
With that Philistine deftly steel'd,
With greaves of brass and coat of mail;
Here in that child which shall prevail,
Faith's true encounter is portray'd,
That leaneth not on earthly aid,
But in the Name of God on high,
Which shall obtain the victory.
And shall for ever overthrow
This world's arm'd prince, the giant foe.

And here comes forth to eyes of sense
The lesson of meek Penitence;
Where Christ is walking on the wave,
And shews His mighty power to save.
And see upon destruction's brink
Good Peter is allow'd to sink,
That we with him might learn to tread
Among the dying and the dead,
Upheld divinely o'er the sea
Of fathomless eternity.

For this Christ comes from the Unseen,
To train us on His strength to lean;
And Mercy's marvels, round Him thrown
Are but to make His presence known;
His presence and His power to bless
When man doth know his helplessness.

And all His Word, both Old and New,
Is but to bring that faith to view,

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And in some storied guise set nigh
Man's struggle and his victory;
Thus to reveal in vision clear
Christ's near approach to mortals here:—
That He who fills the sky with stars,
And to the ocean sets His bars,—
The bars of His Almighty Name,—
Will come to keep their soul from blame.

The three together.—
From centre to circumference,
Through all the realms of soul and sense
To bounds of th' everlasting hills,
Whatever is His will fulfils,
All are around Him as they stand;
No atom stirs, nor drop, nor sand
Without Him, moves in Him alone,
As Seraphim around His throne.
Thou art Thyself the Sun of Light,
The Sea of Goodness infinite;
While Thy dread justice overawes,
Whoe'er in heart goes from Thy laws,
Shall answer Thy mysterious call,
Or 'neath Thy power o'erwhelming fall.
Thou givest strength, and dost require
That all should love Thee, Thee desire.

Virtue.—
Meek pilgrim, sore beset with foes,
And mark'd with scars that speak thy woes,
Upon thy way still onward press,
And look to Him in thy distress;

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He gives hinds' feet to climb on high,
And eagles' wings wherewith to fly.

Penitence.—
But hark, methinks a gentle voice
Bids valley, hill, and lake rejoice,
So sweet that now the morning star
Seems ling'ring on his waning car,
To listen to that voice of mirth;
'Tis sure of Heaven and not of earth,
Where such melodious sounds have birth.
Now near it soars, now sad the lay,
In distance dying far away,
Now grows upon the listening ear,
With happy sounds distinct and clear.

An Angelic voice heard, as of a child singing.
The hind hath 'scaped! now haste away,
Thy life is given thee for a prey;
Now haste away, thou hind forlorn,
And with thee take the wings of morn!
On and on! thy toils are broken,
Streaks of light the day betoken;
Fly amid the purple dawn,
Hasten to the upland lawn,
To slopes where odorous cedars sigh,
To pine-clad tops of mountains high!
Take wings and soar, thou gentle hind,
And leave the nets and dart behind.
Fly, fly above this lower air,
To mist-rang'd halls and mansions fair;

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Fly on to homes of wind and cloud,
Which wrack this lower world and shroud;
Fly on to stars in air that move,—
Take spirits' wings, the stars above,
Fly to the golden realms of Love;
There only, gentle hind, canst thou be free,
Safe from the hunter's toils in rest and liberty.

Cantantes licet usque, minus via lædat, eamus. Virg. Ec. ix. 64.