University of Virginia Library


105

THE GADARENE DEMONIACK.

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Mark v. 1—20. Luke viii. 26—39.

Couch'd in the depth of yon sepulchral gloom,
What shape is that of horror and dismay?
Grim are the lifeless tenants of the tomb;
But far more grim that living man than they.
Uncloth'd, unhous'd, no pow'r can tame his mind;
Fetters his limbs, nor manacles, can bind:
'Gainst all he meets his rage malignant burns,
Till, lacking other scope, fierce on himself he turns.
Ah, well the miserable man is known:
Of earth-born, earth-bred plagues no victim he!
Of passion wild, subverting reason's throne;
Of moonstruck madness; vacant idiotcy:
But of the angels, who rebellious fell
From their first state, and since with darkness dwell,
Left for a space at will on earth to roam,
One on that man has seiz'd, and made the wretch his home.
One, said I? one?—alas, as serried stand,
Beneath the legionary eagle's shade,
Cohort by cohort rang'd, and band by band,
Him their abode have countless demons made.
And so with startling shout, or fearful yell,
Thro' den and cave, o'er mountain, rock, and fell,
With hurried step the wild demoniack runs;
Nor beetling cliff he heeds, or foaming torrent shuns.

106

Oft has his frantick form surpris'd with fear,
As wont his solitary range to take,
On Gilead's heights the hardy mountaineer,
Or the lone fisher on Tiberias' lake.
Oft has his form by Gergesa been seen;
Oft fill'd with dread the peaceful Gadarene;
As in the tombs the sullen maniack lay,
Or rush'd infuriate forth to seize his passing prey.
Forbear thy terror, Gadara; and thou,
Send, Gergesa, thy fearless children round.
Ye, at his rage who trembled, see him now
All cloth'd and harmless, seated on the ground.
There see him taking on the ground his seat,
All cloth'd and harmless, at the Saviour's feet:
His foot hath found, like Noah's dove, its rest;
For He hath still'd the storm which tempested his breast.
His hand, from which the chains asunder fell,
Moves unrestrain'd, nor deems mankind its foes:
His ear, which started at his own fierce yell,
Has heard the words of healing and repose:
His burning eyes, which rested not, nor slept,
With tears of gratitude and joy have wept:
His lips the tones of praise and pray'r can raise,
Pray'r to attend his Lord, to God for mercy praise.
But where are his tormentors? Look, behold,
Where, from the edge of that o'erhanging steep,
Precipitous yon herd unclean is roll'd
Sheer o'er the cliff, and plunges in the deep:
Thither the fiends are gone. For when they saw
Near to the tomb their great Destroyer draw;
Impatient of his eye, the ruthless crew
Before their Sovereign's feet the prostrate victim threw.

107

They saw and trembled. Him the Son of God
They own'd: they own'd his word's resistless power:
Adjur'd him to suspend the penal rod,
Nor antedate the dread, the torturing hour;
Nor to the abyss at once of torment throw;
But leave them forth at his command to go,
There in that herd obscene a refuge find,
And choose their fit abode in that forbidden kind.
And they are gone. Now praise to Him, who cast
Those spirits forth, and left the patient whole!
He the vex'd body freed in ages past,
'Tis He who still must liberate the soul.
There Moloch, blood-besmear'd, with fury wild,
And Belial, flush'd with wine and lust-defil'd,
Conflicting sway with lordly Baal hold,
And Mammon brooding close o'er heaps of hoarded gold.
There the arch-foe, with all the apostate host
Of rebel fiends, whom in his train he drew,
Makes of the kingdoms of the world his boast:
But him with all his host shall Christ subdue.
To break the sceptre, and destroy the throne
Of that arch-foe, the Son of God was shewn:
He saw like lightning, Satan fall from heaven.
Lord of earth, hell, and sky, to Him be glory given!
Praise to the Saviour! Praise to Him, whose will,
Seen and unseen, creation's works obey!
For Him the sea is calm, the winds are still,
The buoyant waters smooth a level way.
The lame have leap'd, exulting at his word:
The blind have seen him; and the deaf have heard:
The lepers worship; and the speechless tongue,
By his command unloos'd, hath loud his praises sung.

108

Thee Sickness hears, and rises from her bed:
To thee Death listens from the charnel tomb:
Unbodied spirits, who their home have fled,
Come at thy bidding, and their post resume.
Thou rul'st the princes of the unseen world;
Thou from their seat th' usurping pow'rs hast hurl'd;
Thy might they publish; on thy name they cry,
“The Holy One of God, the Son of God Most High!”