Sacred Meditations and Moral Themes In Verse By the Rev. Robert Montgomery ... Third Edition--Revised and Enlarged |
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MARTHA AND MARY. |
 | Sacred Meditations and Moral Themes In Verse |  |
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MARTHA AND MARY.
If Heaven be gratitude forever felt
By souls forgiven, who the most have sinned,
Then, will the Marys, more than seraphs love
The Master at whose feet on earth they sat;
For, how can Angels, like the pardoned, know
How much it cost to buy a sinner's crown
Of glory!—e'en Thy pangs and bloody sweat,
And that last Sigh which shook the universe
With dread emotion, as it died away,
Thou Shield of Earth, and Sun of all our souls!
By souls forgiven, who the most have sinned,
Then, will the Marys, more than seraphs love
The Master at whose feet on earth they sat;
For, how can Angels, like the pardoned, know
How much it cost to buy a sinner's crown
Of glory!—e'en Thy pangs and bloody sweat,
And that last Sigh which shook the universe
With dread emotion, as it died away,
Thou Shield of Earth, and Sun of all our souls!
'Tis thus, that o'er that quiet home of love
Which oft in Bethany Messiah graced,
Religion bends her meditative gaze
Delightedly: for there, may household Faith
Divinely human see the social Christ
In ways of meekness, while His words of love
Steal o'er the conscience with a sacred thrill
Beyond resistance.—Lo! the very scene
Beneath the
painter's past-recalling hues
Rises at once, with fascinating spell,
Before thee!—Seated with her flowing hair
Down the white shoulders exquisitely dropped,
Behold the pensive Mary: on the lip of Christ
Her soul is hanging with a hush of awe;
And as she listens to the tones of truth
Or mercy, like stray music from the skies
Descending, as the parchéd summer plant
Opes its faint leaves to quaff the fresh'ning dews
Of twilight,—so her tender spirit drinks
Into its essence those reviving words
By Jesus uttered; while her lifted gaze
Deepens before him, as those radiant truths
His doctrine darts upon her asking mind,—
Brighter and brighter to her soul descend!
But Martha, like the restless billow, works
Hither and thither with excited mind.
She on the household hath her heart bestowed
By zeal mistaken; and, with chiding mood,
Would fain her sister from the feet of Christ
At once withdraw,—so with herself to share
The duteous labours of their kindred home.
Then, solemnly, and with a brow severe,
And eye that pierced her with omniscient ray,
The Christ rebuked her, for the sad unrest
That tasked her being with an over-toil
Unwise, as needless; but, on Mary's head
The coronet of sweet approval placed,
As one who wisely chose that better part
Needful, as holy!—Thus, unmoved she sat,
That gentle listener; like a spell-bound Mind
By Jesus magnetized, to him her face
She turns, and feels the strong attraction work
E'en as the loadstone of almighty love,
That now has touched her with ethereal sway!
Which oft in Bethany Messiah graced,
Religion bends her meditative gaze
Delightedly: for there, may household Faith
Divinely human see the social Christ
In ways of meekness, while His words of love
Steal o'er the conscience with a sacred thrill
Beyond resistance.—Lo! the very scene
151
Rises at once, with fascinating spell,
Before thee!—Seated with her flowing hair
Down the white shoulders exquisitely dropped,
Behold the pensive Mary: on the lip of Christ
Her soul is hanging with a hush of awe;
And as she listens to the tones of truth
Or mercy, like stray music from the skies
Descending, as the parchéd summer plant
Opes its faint leaves to quaff the fresh'ning dews
Of twilight,—so her tender spirit drinks
Into its essence those reviving words
By Jesus uttered; while her lifted gaze
Deepens before him, as those radiant truths
His doctrine darts upon her asking mind,—
Brighter and brighter to her soul descend!
But Martha, like the restless billow, works
Hither and thither with excited mind.
She on the household hath her heart bestowed
By zeal mistaken; and, with chiding mood,
Would fain her sister from the feet of Christ
At once withdraw,—so with herself to share
The duteous labours of their kindred home.
Then, solemnly, and with a brow severe,
And eye that pierced her with omniscient ray,
152
That tasked her being with an over-toil
Unwise, as needless; but, on Mary's head
The coronet of sweet approval placed,
As one who wisely chose that better part
Needful, as holy!—Thus, unmoved she sat,
That gentle listener; like a spell-bound Mind
By Jesus magnetized, to him her face
She turns, and feels the strong attraction work
E'en as the loadstone of almighty love,
That now has touched her with ethereal sway!
And has Earth done with this domestic scene?
To serve with Martha,—or like Mary sit
In loving quiet, teachably resigned
Down at the footstool of our guiding Lord,—
Here is the question! and, as long as Time
And Care round home and spirit cast
Their vexing shadows,—will a scene like this
Speak to the heart with purity, or power.
To serve with Martha,—or like Mary sit
In loving quiet, teachably resigned
Down at the footstool of our guiding Lord,—
Here is the question! and, as long as Time
And Care round home and spirit cast
Their vexing shadows,—will a scene like this
Speak to the heart with purity, or power.
“Careful and cumbered about many things;”
Alas! poor Martha, and, alas, poor World
With thy worn victims,—what description here!
For in those syllables our souls appear
Imaged precisely; there, we seem to live,
Drawn to the life by Inspiration's pen!
Around, within, and often over man
This fretting World a vile distraction brings
With such a conquest, that the soul becomes
A wingless nature, which can never soar
Out of base earth, and unto God return,
Its native centre.—Fortune, Fame, or Gold,
(That great Diana of the world's desire!)
Or, friends to gain, or foes to overmatch,
These, with sad appliances, which come
From envy's blight, or disappointment's frost—
How do they canker to its healthful core
The heart within! And hence, uneasy, sad,
Or much perplexed, with all the vernal light
Of hope departed,—myriads plod their way
To sorrow, death, or disappointment's tomb,
Because, too careful of to-morrow's cost!
This vexing dream, this unsubstantial life,
This heartless pageant of a hollow world
With gnawing earnestness they keenly prize,
Pursue, and flatter;—but the end is foiled.
Alas! poor Martha, and, alas, poor World
With thy worn victims,—what description here!
For in those syllables our souls appear
Imaged precisely; there, we seem to live,
Drawn to the life by Inspiration's pen!
153
This fretting World a vile distraction brings
With such a conquest, that the soul becomes
A wingless nature, which can never soar
Out of base earth, and unto God return,
Its native centre.—Fortune, Fame, or Gold,
(That great Diana of the world's desire!)
Or, friends to gain, or foes to overmatch,
These, with sad appliances, which come
From envy's blight, or disappointment's frost—
How do they canker to its healthful core
The heart within! And hence, uneasy, sad,
Or much perplexed, with all the vernal light
Of hope departed,—myriads plod their way
To sorrow, death, or disappointment's tomb,
Because, too careful of to-morrow's cost!
This vexing dream, this unsubstantial life,
This heartless pageant of a hollow world
With gnawing earnestness they keenly prize,
Pursue, and flatter;—but the end is foiled.
Oh that, like Mary, we did often bend
Low at the feet of that unerring Lord
Who loves us; and the burdened Future leave
Calmly to Him, who counts and knows our wants,
Who feeds the ravens, and the fowls of air,
And clothes the lilies which nor toil nor spin,
With peerless beauty. Let us not to man,
But to Jehovah, our to-morrows trust,
For His they are; and, what for them He wills.
Apportions,—wrangle howsoe'er we may;
Mistrusting Him, whom seraphim adore,
And in the hollow of whose Hand revolves
The living Universe, with all its worlds!
Low at the feet of that unerring Lord
Who loves us; and the burdened Future leave
Calmly to Him, who counts and knows our wants,
Who feeds the ravens, and the fowls of air,
And clothes the lilies which nor toil nor spin,
154
But to Jehovah, our to-morrows trust,
For His they are; and, what for them He wills.
Apportions,—wrangle howsoe'er we may;
Mistrusting Him, whom seraphim adore,
And in the hollow of whose Hand revolves
The living Universe, with all its worlds!
But, how anxiety the heart corrodes,
Wasting the moral health of man away,—
We seldom ponder, till too late perceived!
When, under burdens which ourselves inflict,
The intellect of half its glorious life
Is sapped, while conscience turns a crippled thing;
The heart gets agéd ere the head grows old,
And those bright virtues, which might nobly shine
In that clear firmament of thought and power,
Where lofty manhood would exult to act,
Rarely, if ever, into influence dawn.—
For else, the grandeurs, graces, charms,
The smiles of matin, and the shades of night,
Sun, moon, and star, wild mountains and glad seas,
Meadows and woods, and winds, and lulling streams,
With fruits, and flowers like hues of paradise
Amid us scattered,—would so well impress
The moral being, that responsive Mind
Upon the Beautiful would back reflect
And answer, most intelligibly pure,
To each appeal of beauty. But the world
Can so infect the myriads of mankind,—
That all those latent harmonies, that link
Nature to man by loveliness and might,
Lie undiscerned: and, though a spirit deep,
A Sentiment of fine significance and truth
In all Creation, cultured souls may find,
How few perceive it! but, on objects gaze
With eye unmoved;—as if by God unmade
Their beauties, and by Him unformed their powers.
Nature to them in all her shrines is mute;
Nor to her mystic oracles, that yield
Such music to Imagination's ear,—
Can the cold worldling condescend to list.
Wasting the moral health of man away,—
We seldom ponder, till too late perceived!
When, under burdens which ourselves inflict,
The intellect of half its glorious life
Is sapped, while conscience turns a crippled thing;
The heart gets agéd ere the head grows old,
And those bright virtues, which might nobly shine
In that clear firmament of thought and power,
Where lofty manhood would exult to act,
Rarely, if ever, into influence dawn.—
For else, the grandeurs, graces, charms,
The smiles of matin, and the shades of night,
Sun, moon, and star, wild mountains and glad seas,
Meadows and woods, and winds, and lulling streams,
With fruits, and flowers like hues of paradise
Amid us scattered,—would so well impress
The moral being, that responsive Mind
Upon the Beautiful would back reflect
155
To each appeal of beauty. But the world
Can so infect the myriads of mankind,—
That all those latent harmonies, that link
Nature to man by loveliness and might,
Lie undiscerned: and, though a spirit deep,
A Sentiment of fine significance and truth
In all Creation, cultured souls may find,
How few perceive it! but, on objects gaze
With eye unmoved;—as if by God unmade
Their beauties, and by Him unformed their powers.
Nature to them in all her shrines is mute;
Nor to her mystic oracles, that yield
Such music to Imagination's ear,—
Can the cold worldling condescend to list.
Reader! be thine, at least, the better Part,
Whate'er thy walk, thy weakness, or thy woes.
That good, eternity will not destroy;
But rather, through all ages will expand
By new accessions of ennobling power.—
Yet, while the turmoil of this troubled world
Tries the worn heart, or tempts the wearied mind
To false dependence on the things of sight,
Though perishing,—to Providence alone
Thyself and thine, learn more and more to trust;
For He will keep thee, as His Own beloved,
In perfect shelter, and in blesséd peace
Now, and for ever! And, when thus becalmed,
Feelings of far diviner growth than Earth
Can nourish, from thy spirit soon will rise,
And hopes exalt the bosom they inspire:
Till, like the prophets, patriarchs, saints,
And all the Chivalry for Christ, who fought
Faith's battle unto blood!—above this world
With all its pleasures, principles, and powers,
Raised by The Spirit, thou wilt learn to live;
And call, whate'er opposing Flesh may dream,
A God thy portion, and a heaven thy home.
Whate'er thy walk, thy weakness, or thy woes.
That good, eternity will not destroy;
But rather, through all ages will expand
By new accessions of ennobling power.—
Yet, while the turmoil of this troubled world
Tries the worn heart, or tempts the wearied mind
To false dependence on the things of sight,
Though perishing,—to Providence alone
Thyself and thine, learn more and more to trust;
For He will keep thee, as His Own beloved,
156
Now, and for ever! And, when thus becalmed,
Feelings of far diviner growth than Earth
Can nourish, from thy spirit soon will rise,
And hopes exalt the bosom they inspire:
Till, like the prophets, patriarchs, saints,
And all the Chivalry for Christ, who fought
Faith's battle unto blood!—above this world
With all its pleasures, principles, and powers,
Raised by The Spirit, thou wilt learn to live;
And call, whate'er opposing Flesh may dream,
A God thy portion, and a heaven thy home.
| Sacred Meditations and Moral Themes In Verse | |