The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery :: :: University of Virginia Library

“A venerable and sacred tradition relates, that by the rising of a certain uncommon star was foretold, not diseases or death, but the descent of an adorable God for the salvation of the human race, and the melioration of human affairs; which star, they say, was observed by the Chaldeans, who came to present their offerings to the new-born God.”—From Chalcidius, an ancient Commentator on the Timæus of Plato.

ANALYSIS OF BOOK III.

The fulness of Time—Probable Sympathy of distant and unknown Worlds—Despair of the Evil One— State of the World—Gabriel commanded to Earth— The Annunciation — Mary's holy raptures — Her Visit to her Cousin at Hebron—Her Journey described—The subject naturally suggests an allusion to the hallowed associations which the beauty and scenery of Palestine awake—The Virgin's arrival— Congratulations—Cæsar's Order for a General Census —Birth of the Messiah—Appearance of the Angels to the Shepherds in Bethlehem Vale—Their Hymn —Visit of the Shepherds to the Cradle of Jesus— Reflections on the humility of Christ's entrance into this World—How contrary to the martial ideas of the Jews—Their doubt, rejection of Christ, and consequent dispersion, when compared with their former high estate, kindle our deepest thoughts of fear and faith—Their future Restoration—Return to the order of the Gospel—Day of Circumcision— Presentation of the Divine Babe in the Temple— Simeon's Ecstacy—Return of the Holy Family to the Vale of Nazareth—Arrival of the Magi—The Craft and Cruelty of Herod—Massacre of the Innocents—Childhood of Jesus—His appearance among the Rabbis at twelve years of age in the Temple— Second Return to Nazareth—The Meditations of the Saviour as He contemplated the Redemption of Man, amid the seclusion and silence of his lowly lot—John the Baptist—His Dwelling in the Desert —Obeys the Holy Spirit—Announces the coming of Christ—Preaches Repentance, which is true wisdom. The Book ends with a view of the consolation of the Scriptures, and the beauty of the outward Universe, when enjoyed in connexion with the Divine Creator.

Now was the fulness of predestined time
Complete, when councils of the God Triune
In Christ embodied, should at length evolve;
And not ungreeted did Redemption's hour
Arrive: before the Throne new radiance burn'd;
And emanations of intenser bliss
Than that which kindled o'er creation's birth,
Angelic myriads felt, as peal'd their chants
Of hymning wonder!—yea, in spirit-worlds
From whence no living Shape to earth has come,
Round these, perchance, a sympathetic thrill
Of worship ran, when first Salvation dawn'd.

And thou! the demon-King of darkness throned
In thine eternity of tort'ring fires,
Thou dread Apostate! who didst shake the skies
For vict'ry, vanquish'd, but rebellious still;
On thee the glories of Messiah's reign
Beam'd terrible: within thy dark abyss
When ruin'd angels to the summons throng'd,
With dreadful beauty, like a dying sun
Amid the tempest sinking, each adorn'd,
No triumph on thy thunder-blasted brow,
But deeper vengeance, more despairing wo
Than yet the realms of agony endured,
Was visible; that hour, so long foredoom'd,
Is coming, when a world shall be unbound
From chains infernal, and the Powers of Hell
Disarm'd for ever on their crumbling thrones!

Meanwhile, on earth mute Expectation sat
And listen'd; for a rumour, echoed down
From dateless time, of two surpassing Kings
Predestined on the globe to rule, prevail'd;
Whose powers, though blended in Virgilian song,
Sublimely differ'd. In Augustan peace
The world reposed; and grateful Rome beheld
Her Janus shut, her crimson banners furl'd.
No more Dodona, from the oaken shade,
Or Delphi, from exhaling cavern, sent
Vain oracles in mystic verse enweaved.
The Temples mourn'd; Idolatry was dumb,
Or mutter'd faintly from her glimmering shrines;
While Art and Science, in their palmy state,
Triumphantly advanced. Thus, all matured,
And apt to question with profoundest thought

471

Each creed or doctrine of diviner sway,
The World awaited her Messiah's dawn:
From realm to realm a vast tradition reign'd
Of sibyl-words, which sang the coming God;
While many a heart, prophetically deep,
Mused in the silence of majestic hope,
Or, heaven-inspired, the Earth's Redeemer hail'd.

Thus all below; when Gabriel heard a voice
Of thunder from the Throne proceed, which bade
To Galilee a wingèd flight convey
His presence, where in rocky Naz'reth dwelt
A Maiden pure, to Joseph then betroth'd.
And lo, an Angel brighten'd into view
Before her, like a lovely burst of morn!
And while she trembled, dazzled into dread,
A Salutation of entrancing sound
Fell on her ear:—“Divinely favoured Thou!
Of women blest! The Lord is with thee, hail!
A Son, behold, thy virgin womb shall bear;
Son of the Highest! Jesus let His name
Be called; upon the throne of David fix'd,
O'er Jacob's house for ever shall he reign,
And endless his predestined kingdom prove.”
“But how?” cried Mary, “Since I know not man.”
Again the Angel: “Overshadowing thee
The Holy Spirit will in power descend,
And That thou bearest, Son of God be call'd.”
Then answer'd she, “Behold thy handmaid, Lord!
And be thy word fulfill'd,” as brightly fled
The glowing Angel to his native skies.

Let Silence think, for how can words reveal
Her full devotion of ecstatic thought,
When Mary ponder'd on that promised Child?
Let mothers tell! to whose enchanted ears
Earth brings no music like the helpless cry
Of new-born life, from lips which know not guile.
Oh! Maid elect! with more than gladness wing'd,
In the young beauty of thy spousal bloom
To Hebron didst thou o'er the mountains pass,
And visit one, by Heav'n's bright herald warn'd.

'Mid the faint crimson of a flushing dawn
That Pilgrim started, when the breeze was up,
And, like a wing, invisibly career'd
O'er woods and waters: from the grey ravines
The oak and olive sent a leafy sound,
And with her multitude of orient flow'rs
The blooming Sharon glitter'd from afar;
Or, gazing from some terraced rock or hill,
The herding goats from villages and vales,
And wild onàgras, free as desert-wind,
Her eye discern'd; while veil'd Arabians sought
A distant well, like Midian girls of old;
And others to empurpled vineyards hied,
'Mid the soft radiance of unshrouding morn.

By Heaven secured, o'er lone and lofty heights
She glided on; and trod with eager foot
Each verdant slope, each rocky change of scene,
Where olive waved, or cypress-shadow fell.
But oft she paused, and bless'd the vital breeze
From lake upborne; or, when some hill or plain
Of green magnificence, or glorious view
Of nature's wonders, to her eye appeal'd,—
How beautiful! to hear the Maiden chant
Hymns to Jehovah, while her soul recall'd
Those hallow'd memories which ever cling
To ground immortal as great Palestine!

Oh, tell me not of trophied Greece, and groves
Where Plato wander'd; or poetic streams
That wind through Homer's page, or Pindar's song;
For Palestine by God Himself was loved,
Inhabited, and blest! His Spirit there
Hath walk'd, the shadow of His glory been,
His miracles prevail'd,—the mountains blazed
With His descending lustre! all her vales,
Her fountains, rivers, and delicious plains,
Of patriarchs and prophets speak; beneath the shade
Of her ancestral trees have Angels sat,
And holy Abram smiled: her meanest spot
Is mighty, and her dust a sacred charm,
For in it sleep the World's primeval sires!

Unbounded Fancy! on whose fairy wings
The spirit voyageth o'er realms and isles,
Oh, waft me now to Tabor's solemn height,
Where Barak and his heaven-arm'd thousands hid,
And there the Drama of the world renew!
Let Eden rise, her boughs and branches wave,
And Shapes aerial from the clouds descend,
To view her lovely bowers. The Flood react,—
Earth, sea, and sky in billowy chaos lost!
Revive the Patriarchs; mark their rev'rent forms,
Or hear the Prophets when the people rage.
Or, wouldst thou from the sacred past retire

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To scenes which live,—from haunted Tabor view
The greenness of a hundred glorious plains!
Lo, vast Esdraelon, like a verdant sea,
By dew-famed Hermon bound; there, Endor lies.
Where dwelt the night-hag in unholy gloom
And Saul seem'd wither'd as the spectre rose,
Wrapp'd in a mantle, out of Hades call'd.
But northward, lock'd in azure calm of noon,
Thy lake, Tiberias! on that blue extent
Of shining waters oft the Saviour look'd;
And near yon mountain, iced with dazzling snow,
The sacred hill whereon He sat, and taught
The wisdom of eternity to man.

But, see! o'er Judah's aromatic clime
The sun is west'ring: long ere twilight rose
With dewy welcome to her second night
Of mountain-pilgrimage, the Virgin stood
Beneath the shelter of a rustic cot,
In Hebron, and her holy cousin hail'd,
Enraptured! What sublime emotion clad
Each feature, what a radiance fill'd her eyes,
And touch'd her form, when that saluting voice
Was heard, as thrilling with celestial truth
Elizabeth on Mary gazed, and cried,
“Of Women blest! divinely blest, art thou!”
While leapt the babe within her womb, for joy.
And thus did Mary in her chant respond,
“My soul the gracious Lord doth magnify!
The proud He scatters, but the meek regards;
For thus to Abram and our fathers spake
The God of Israel; glorious be His name!
For me, his lowly Handmaid, ever-blest
Shall ages deem, and generations call.”

But now, from Cæsar came a high command
For Judah's offspring to enroll their birth.
Then Joseph, by angelic dream forewarn'd
How vestal Mary had from God conceived,
To Bethlehem went; and there the infant Christ
His Virgin-Mother in a manger laid:
All pure and holy, as the promise spake.—
And say! what hour so awefully instinct
With Secrets from eternity ordain'd,
As when th' Incarnate met the placid gaze
Of His unspotted Mother! what enshrined
A scene, where Deity the mortal shape
Of feeble infant took, and, rudely wrapt,
In new-born meekness smiling forth the God,
Deliver'd earth and thrill'd the Heavens with joy!

That night were shepherds at their watches due
Around unfolded sheep, in that soft vale
Whose fountain warbled to the dreaming ear
Of David, when he sought Adullam's cave.
A calm so deep, that silence seem'd a soul,
Pervaded all things; dew-light on the ground
Was glist'ring, and the vigil-shepherds watch'd
Contentedly their breathing charge recline
On pastures, where the morning flock had fed.
No cloud the heaven defiled; but, clear and large,
The planets in their throbbing lustre shone.
'Twas then, while Nature mute as dreaming air
Reposed, a melody in wafted flow
Advanced; and when it reach'd the starry plain,
An earthless Form, seraphically robed,
Evolved, and glitter'd like a noontide-sea.

Awe-smote, and blinded with excessive blaze
Of archangelic lustre, on the ground
Each shepherd sank, nor dared with lifted eye
The Glory face, till words of music came:
“Ye pious watchers; tremble not; behold
The tidings of eternal joy I bring:
This night the Saviour of the World is born!
Within a manger, lo! the Babe is found!”
He said; and as the lull of golden streams
When soft-toned winds melodiously awake,
The radiant quiver of angelic plumes
The air attuned, which trembled into song,
While, robed with brightness, thus the choir began:

“Thou Lord of Lords, and Light of Light!
Who, with empyreal glory bright,
Art seated on th' Eternal Throne
Invisibly, the vast Alone,
Ten thousand worlds around Thee blaze,
Ten thousand harps repeat Thy praise,
Yet hymn, nor harp, nor song divine,
Nor myriad orbs created Thine,
This measureless display of love
To earth below and heaven above
With blending eloquence can tell
That ends the Curse, and conquers Hell;
For lo! the manger where He lies,
A world-redeeming Sacrifice:
Peace on earth, to Man good will,
Let the skies our anthem fill!

“Hail, Virgin-born! transcendent Child
In mortal semblance, undefiled,
By ages vision'd, doom'd to be
The Star of Immortality;
Hail! Prince of Peace, and Lord of Light!
Around thy path the world is bright;
Where'er Thou tread'st an Eden blooms,
And Earth forgets her myriad tombs:

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Thy voice is heard—and Anguish dies,
The dead awake and greet the skies;
Lo! Blindness melts in healing rays,
And mute Lips ope in hymns of praise;
The famish'd on Thy bounty feed,
While myriads at Thy summons speed
Redeem'd from woe, and sin, and pain
To see the lost restored again:
Peace on earth, to Man good will,
Let the skies our anthem fill!

“Awake, awake, thou ransom'd Earth!
And, blooming with a second birth,
In loveliness awake and shine,
Thy King is come, Salvation thine!
The winds are rock'd in holy rest,
The waves asleep on Ocean's breast,
And beautiful the boundless calm
O'er nature spread, like midnight balm;
For lo! the manger where He lies,
A world-redeeming Sacrifice;
The Promised, since the world began,
To live and die for guilty Man.

“Again, again, the anthem swell!
For Heaven shall burst the gates of Hell!
A vision of uncounted years
Which travel on through toil and tears,
Is all unroll'd in wild extent
Like ocean's surging element:
But soon that darken'd scene hath past
And rules the Lord in light, at last!
The sunbeams of a sabbath-day
Around adoring myriads play:
From north to south, from east to west,
All pangs are hush'd, all hearts at rest:
Pacific homes, Atlantic isles,
Far as the vast creation smiles,
The rudest spot which man can own,
Shall hail Messiah on His throne;
And lauding souls by land and sea,
One Altar build, O God! to Thee;
While men and angels round it throng
To chant the sempiternal song,
Peace on earth, to Man good will,
Let the skies our anthem fill!”

Hush'd the deep chant, the choral Train ascends, And then commingles in one pomp of light,
While all entranced th'adoring she pherds kneel:
But when the bright ascent was o'er, up rose
They all in ravishment; to Bethlehem sped,
And there Messiah wrapp'd in swaddling-clothes
They found, and sang with reverential joy
A hymn of worship to the Babe divine;
While Mary, meekly silent, heard the tale
Of wonder, musing with prophetic soul.

O World! and was it thus thy Saviour came?
Rich as the chorus of Creation's morn
From every region should thy lips have pour'd
A loud hosannah to proclaim the Lord!
The skies have bent, the mountains clapp'd their hands,
The cedars waved from every conscious hill,
And Sun and Moon, and each melodious Star,
And Ocean, with his jubilee of waves
Have thrill'd the universe with natal joy!
But all was silent, unobserved and still;
No Empire sung, when man's Redeemer came;
The peasant-mother in her Alpine cot,
At dreadful midnight, no desertion feels,
Like that rude manger where the Virgin lay,
And scarce a solitary taper shone!

Is this the Wonderful? the Prince of Light,
The King of kings, o'er countless worlds enthroned.
Oh! Language cannot with its brightest words
Adumbrate, or by epithets express
The imagined splendors which proud Judah dreamt
Would crown Messiah, when He came to give
Her ransom'd myriads all Isaiah sung!

Empires have sunk, and waning kingdoms died,
But still, apart, sublime in mis'ry stands
The wreck of Israel! Christ hath come, and bled,
And miracles and ages round the Cross
A holy splendour of undying truth
Preserve; yet still their pining spirit looks
For that unrisen Sun which prophets hail'd!
Where once the Temple, bathed in golden hues,
Immense as glorious, with her matchless spires
On mount Moriah stood, a race exist
In darkness,—still to Zion turn, and weep!
And when I view him in his garb of wo,
A wand'ring outcast, by the world disown'd,
The haggard, lost, and long-oppressèd Jew,
“His blood be on us,” through remembrance rolls
In fearful echo from a nation's lip!

Then widow'd Zion! still for thee awaits
A future, teeming with triumphal sounds
And Shapes of glory; still a remnant lives,
Who once again thy banner shall unroll
And plant it on thine everlasting walls.
The Cities huge which overaw'd the world
Rot in a gloom, irrevocably seal'd,
Of desolation; Time shall never rear
The towers, nor crowd their weed-grown walks again.
But Judah, like some Babylonian wreck

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Which age nor elemental wrath subdues,
In mournful grandeur that outlives decay
There as it lies on yon deserted plain,—
Shall yet endure, till Restoration's voice
Her orphan'd race to Salem's clime recall.

Exult, O Zion! for thy God is king,
And lift thy banner on the mountain-tops;
From Egypt, Pathros, and Assyria call'd,
From Shinar, Hamath, and the sea-born isles,
From the vast regions of the utmost orb
Returning Israel for dominion comes!
A voice of Weeping, it is heard no more;
The timbrels sound, her glad-eyed maidens dance,
Her young men shout, the aged meekly smile,
Rememb'ring all the pleasant things of old!
The lea of Sharon, and the pastured glen
Of Achre, beautiful in verdure shine;
While planted vincyards with a costly bloom
Wave on her hills, and court the rip'ning sun.
The lamb, the lion, and the infant play
Together; Righteousness thy gate adorns,
And peace divine, by purity bestow'd
From God incarnate, in thy sacred walls,
Recover'd Palestine! for ever dwells.

As when a mother for an absent child
Laments, till beauty on her cheek decays,
Yet haply in declining loveliness
More exquisite than in her glowing prime
Appeareth, so doth thine afflicted Land
Touch the deep spirit with diviner thought.
Now in thy wo, than when a bridal pomp
Bedeck'd thee. For the homeless race afar
Thou yearnest with a soft maternal grief;
To hill and mountain the devouring Curse
Hath clung; and rivers down unpeopled vales
Like mournful pilgrims glide; while fruit nor tree
Bear to the tyrant what thy children took
From thy fond bosom: yet, a latent power
Of life and glory in thy wither'd soil
Is buried, that shall rise when Judah comes;
Like music sleeping in a haughty lyre,
Whose muteness only to the master-touch
Breaks into sound which ravishes a world!

Now, o'er the infant God a day decreed
For circumcision rose, in wonted light,
And “Jesus” (let the heavens and earth revere
That word almighty!) was the name he bore.
And then, each light of due lustration done,
The lowly Virgin to the Temple brings
The young Redeemer; thus had God ordain'd.
No lamb had she; but in her meekness brought
Two turtle-doves of pure and spotless wing,
And solemnly within the outer-court
Awaited, while a Priest the Lord approach'd:
And haply, on the Temple's wondrous mass
Of finish'd beauty and effulgent pomp
Oft gazed, and gloried in her ancient creed
That there the God of Israel loved to dwell!
But when th' oblation of unspotted doves
Was paid, an inner court's wide precincts ope,
And Mary enters with her bosom'd child;
Then silently, with glance of tend'rest love,
For presentation yields the Babe divine.

But who is he, with beard of flowing white,
Who onward moves amid the ritual pomp?
Led by the Spirit, lo! a bending Form
Approaches, kindles as with sudden youth,
Her Babe enclasps, and to his Maker cries,
“In peace, O Lord! now let Thy servant go;
These eyes have seen, these wither'd arms embrace
Thy promised One, a Child of Glory, sent
To lighten Israel, and the world restore!”
Yes, morning, noon, and night, in dream or prayer,
In temple-worship, and mysterious hours,
For this he long'd, to see Messiah born!—
The Saviour came, and Simeon died in joy.

Each rite complete, the Holy Fam'ly sought
In Bethlehem-vale their consecrated home;
There, scarce arrived, when lo! as Magi bow'd
In nightly worship to unnumber'd worlds
Of starry name, an orbèd Meteor shone
With mystic beams oracularly bright!
But well they knew, those star-adoring Seers,
That revelation high, and sped on wings
Of holy speed to Zion's stately haunt;
There wond'ringly around old Salem's walls
Exclaim'd, “The new-born great! Judean King,
His dwelling say, for Him would we adore!”

And souls there lived, which drank, as thirsty ground
A summer-rain absorbs, refreshing hope,
When orient Sages of a mighty birth
For Israel spake: for Judah long had pined,
And on the willows hung her captive harp:
But he, whom Mariamne's murder'd form
For ever haunted like a dream of hell,
The guilty, pamper'd, pale Herodian king!
Heard this, and trembled: yet in bloody calm
His purpose lay, and thus that king address'd
Those eastern Magi: “Swift to Bethlehem, haste!
The infant find, around his cradle kneel,
And tell, where I may come and worship, too?”

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They went; and lo! yon beauteous Star,
In loveliness beyond all radiant orbs
Which decorate the night, a guidance lent,
Till o'er that roof where lay the Lord of Worlds
It paused, and quiver'd as with conscious beams;
There sped the Magi, earth's Redeemer found
Encradled; and with bending awe they kneel,
His Form adore, and solemn worship pay
With myrrh and frankincense; while Mary stands
In wonder; with her eye to heaven upturn'd,
Her bosom swelling with a silent hymn,
And in her spirit more than mother's joy!

Their homage done, and earth's Messiah seen,
By God forewarn'd, the orient pilgrims wend
Afar from Herod, to their destined home.
That night, in visionary trance, appear'd
The Shape angelic Joseph once beheld:
“Arise! to Egypt with the Virgin speed,
And holy Infant; Him would Herod slay!”
To that high word obedient, ere the blush
Of morning crimson'd Horeb's sainted brow
Or Jordan's waters in the sunshine wound,
By Heaven environ'd, as a viewless guard,
To Egypt went he, till the monarch died:
“For out of Egypt have I call'd my Son!”
So spake the Seer, whose word our God fulfill'd.

Then passion, like a kindled hurricane
Burst from the tyrant with terrific sway,
And cruel havoc, dark as Hell desired;
Oh! then were shrieks maternal, sounds which came
From riven souls, and childless Rachel wept.
In Rama was the voice of mourning heard,
And red with blood the streams of Israel ran,
'Twas Murder's banquet on a thousand babes!—
Sweet flowers of Life, whose fragile beauty made
The living Eden of parental hearts;
Asleep in cradled stillness, with the light
Of infant slumber on their lovely cheeks,
Or prattling gaily at the cottage-door,
Slaughter o'ertook them, and with murderous yell
Mock'd the sad mothers, shrieking for their God!
That cry was answer'd when the monster-king,
By pain corrupted, turn'd a loathsome mass,
And died! Then, heralded by Gabriel's wings,
The infant-Saviour into Nazareth came;
For Archelaus o'er Judah's empire ruled,
And, Herod-like, had bathed his throne in blood.

Mysterious Time! o'er many realms and lands
Thy shadow broods, which man cannot dispel,
Or brighten; but o'er that most hallow'd scene
Where dwelt unknown, in human meekness veil'd,
Incarnate Glory, lies thy thickest gloom.
For ever hidden, by no voice reveal'd,
The holy childhood of the Saviour-God.
Yet, wafted back on no irrev'rent wing,
Imagination oft her eye would fix
On that green vale, where first The Morning-Star
With mildest beauty rose. By earth unfelt,
Celestial watchers! did ye not descend
And hover round, while grew that awful Child
In the pure light of Mary's pensive gaze?
Maiden and mother! whom all ages bless
When lock'd in slumber the Redeemer lay,
How on His features did thine homage dwell!

But years departed; and Messiah grew
Strong in the spirit, wisdom, grace and power;
Then oft at eve, when sultry day was o'er,
The holy Infant, by parental knee,
The Book of Life with tender awe perused,
And question'd; while in love's delightful dream
Each parent mused; recalling oft the Shapes
Angelic, or that vision Bethlehem saw;
Or, sounding all the dim and mighty depths
Of prophecy, where solemn meanings lay.
And ah, how beautiful! in cradled sleep
While slept her Child, to mark the wedded Maid
On His pure brow a gentle kiss implant,
And then to Joseph, with a speaking look
This truth convey—“How wonderful is Heaven,
If there the Hope of fallen Israel lies!”
When twelve years thus the Son of God had spent,
To celebrate a high and solemn feast,
Begun when over Egypt's first-born flew
The direful Angel on his wings of death,
All came; and with excited myriads went
Christ's holy parents up to Salem's walls,
As true adorers. When the seventh day saw
Each rite concluded, back to Nazareth vale
They speed, but where is He, the sacred Boy?
With friends beloved, or in Jerusalem lost?
There hasten'd they, and sorrowingly roam'd
The Virgin-mother, garden, grove, and field;
And as she hurried through becrowded paths
Her eye's fond question moved each passing face
With feeling:—such as thoughts untold betray
When look is language, and that language read
By hearts which sympathise with pangs unknown.
And thus she sought Him with unwearied step,

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Till tears had gather'd, and her gaze was dim,
Yet found Him not: when hark! a burst of joy
Maternal; in the temple, lo, He stands;
With priest and sage, and vested rabbis mix'd,
The lost One lingers:—on His brow the light
Of Godhead! from His lips a stream of words
Is flowing, fraught with spirit-moving power
That shook all hearts, the ear of Age entranced,
And through dark conscience pour'd celestial rays
Which had not shone before. Each look'd on each,
Astounded; wisdom seem'd a thing unwise
By man announced; Divinity was there!
But, garb'd in lowliness, that peasant-Child
His temple left, a mother's smile renew'd,
And gently her inquiring wonder check'd
With words unfathom'd, yet, in Mary's heart
Embalm'd for ever with revering love!
Then, homeward once again the pilgrims haste
United; musing on the festal pomp,
And crowded worship, such as Salem loved.
And long before the pallid star of Eve
Had heralded the hush of twilight-hour,
A cot was round them, in their quiet vale.

By Nazareth are green and silent dells,
Secluded groves, and rocky shades profound;
And here Messiah dwelt:—those eighteen years
Of fameless calm, wherein the Lord of Light
Reposed, and suffer'd like a human Child,
But sinless, all our burden, toil, and tears,
With what a mystery of voiceless awe
They sink upon the inmost heart of man!
Whether on thee, O Virgin blest! we muse,
Thy soul by reverence and awe subdued
To something holier than mother's love;
Or that all-glorious all-majestic Form
In Whom was center'd man's eternal hope,
Survey, amid the still and solemn vale,—
Our thoughts are thrilling as the tears which rise
When Angels warble round a soul forgiven:
That wondrous Being! in those mountain-dells
As lone He wander'd, did He not forecast
The awful drama of His life to come?
On this He ponder'd; this the mind perceived;
From Cana's miracle to Calv'ry's mount,
The crown and cross, the agony of death
He view'd; nor dash'd the bitter Cup away
The Curse had fill'd, and Man was doom'd to drink
Had Christ not come, and drank the cup, and died!

But now the hour decretive Heaven ordain'd
For Jesus to unfold th' Almighty will,
Approach'd. Tiberius o'er imperial Rome
Was reigning, and in subject Judah ruled
The savage Pilate; when the Word of God
To John amid the wilderness was sent;
For thus the Seer prophetically sang:
“A voice comes wafted through the wilderness!
From Him who crieth, ‘Let the mountains sink,
The valleys rise, and be the deserts smooth!
A God approaches! be His way prepared!’”

That great Precursor, whose proclaiming voice,
“Repent ye!” pierced the wilderness with dread,
Was robed in hairy sackcloth; round his loins
A leathern girdle wound; the mountain-spring,
Which bubbled through the vale, his drink supplied;
His meat was honey and the locust wild.
Alone, but angel-watch'd, that Orphan grew
To manhood; nursed amid the elements,
A son of Nature, where the Desert waved
Her wildest boughs, or flung the blackest gloom
That cavern'd Eremite with God communed,
In storm or stillness, when the thunder voiced
His anger, or a sunshine wore His smile.
One awful loneliness his life became,
In thought and prayer mysteriously it pass'd;
And oft, sublime!—as when at sunset-hour,
A fierce magnificence of crimson hues
Redden'd the mountains, while each rocky crest
Of Judah with volcanic lustre blazed,
And slept the sultry air, the prophet knelt;
And the wild glory of his dreaming eye
To heaven was turn'd, in meditative awe.
The hush of woods, the hymn of waters faint,
And azure prospect of yon midland-sea
Beyond the desert, glimmering and vast,
And dying cadence of some distant bird
Whose song was fading like a silver cloud,—
'Mid sights and sounds, commingled like to these,
Earth had no grander scene, than when the hour
Of Syrian twilight heard the Baptist pray!

Beside the waters of th' unliving Sea
Where buried cities lift their ghastly wreck
In tomb-like waste, the Prophet chanced to muse,
Dreaming of dark Gomorrah, and the loud
Despair of millions, when the thunder knell'd
And rapidly a burning deluge came.
An airy stillness, solitude intense
Was there: no bird upon enchanted wing;
No murmur, but the reedy moan of banks
Of sickly herbage; or the creeping sound
Of Jordan, dragging its sepulchral way;
Sea, sky, and air in one unearthly calm
Reposed! In such a scene of lifeless gloom

477

While mused the Baptist on the guilt of Man,
A mighty impulse, an inbreathing power
Of Inspiration on his spirit came!
He felt the God; and, fill'd with sacred fire,
To Jordan hasten'd; soon that region round
“Repent ye!” heard each hill and vale repeat.
Where ran the holiest of holy Streams
That wind and glitter through green Palestine,
His cry awoke, from whence a warning rung
With tones of terror, till before them fled
The sinful passions of a sensual crowd,
Like waves before the wind! From Judah's realm
To Alexandria's clime, his solemn threat
Was echoed; till around the Baptist throng'd
All sects and nations, to repent, and live
By laving waters of Baptismal power.
There stood the Sadducee! with eye unscaled,
To see the darkness of the grave illumed
By Words immortal; there the glozing tribe
Of Pharisees, with frighted soul appeal'd
For mercy, cowering as the prophet cried,
“Ye vipers! who hath warn'd you from the wrath
To come? Repentance! let thy fruits appear;
The axe is laid, and every fruitless tree
Shall wither! lo, the fire of vengeance falls!”

Divine Repentance! in thy sacred tear
Alone is wisdom for the erring heart.
That infancy of soul, that stainless hour
When the stern chaos of our spirit sleeps
In passionless repose, how oft it woos
Our feelings back to purity and heaven!
Alas! that in our solitude we soar
To perfect goodness, but in life descend
To dust again!—our aspirations quench'd,
Till all which purer moments wisely taught,
And conscience sanction'd, is a dream forgot!

Yet all we ponder, fancy, feel, or view,
Hath something for the soul's mysterious chords
Attuned, to thrill them with religious tones.
But, far above each sight or sound of earth,
Or mind of man, that heaven-revealing Book
In whose dread tones of everlasting truth
The inspirations of Jehovah dwell!
There find we visions of transcendent blaze,
And heralds bright, embassadors divine,
And voices from the Throne and Seat of bliss,
And hallelujahs from angelic choirs,
And God Eternal, with His Thunder girt,
And Radiance, speaking like the ocean vast!
And you, blest Oracles! whose words relate
The story of Redemption, all sublime,
With what a simple rectitude severe
Your page immortal moves from change to change!
Nor turn'd, nor daunted, whatsoe'er the gloom
Or brightness of the awful Scene, it paints:
So rolls a river through a wide domain;
Whate'er the colour which the clouds reflect,
Or bank, or verdure, on its beauty flings,
It travels onward with the stately course
Of sound and motion, to the fated sea.

By these alone, can mortal Life unweave
Her web of mystic lines, and many hues,
And man's eternity before him rise
In dreams of light, or shadows of despair.
At evening once, beside a circling shore
Of sandy wildness, where the billows loved
Their foaming solitude, my fancy stray'd:
Dark crags, and summits, fit for tempest-thrones,
Hung near: but mid-way, on a lofty mount,
By the green splendour of tumultuous grass
Made beautiful, there mused a wither'd Shape
By sorrow featured: on his wasted cheek
Sat wan decline; but still the quenchless eye
Was glorious, — there, undying radiance gleam'd!
A Book, an ancient Book of faded leaves
Was open'd, which, with bended brow, he read
Intently: nearer still my footstep crept,
And by the breeze from his pale lip was brought
Soft under-tones of some almighty speech;
Till, quaking with excess of thought divine,
Down on the herb adoringly he sank
And fix'd his eyes upon the awful heavens,
As though enthroned there God himself appear'd!
And then, while rolling tears ran bright and large,
Exultingly his gasping spirit cried,
“For ever and for ever is Thy Throne
Transcendent, Lord, and everlasting King!”

True Adoration, what a voice is thine!
From earth it wanders through the heaven of heavens,
There from the mercy-seat in light evokes
An answer, thrilling the seraphic Host
With new additions of adoring song!
For prayer is man's omnipotence below,
A soul's companionship with Christ and God,
Communion with eternity begun.

Oh, love celestial! earth can heaven-like grow,
If man profane it not by savage tread
And sordid gaze. E'en now, the sun appears
A king of glory: and this breathing world,
Like some vast instrument of varied sound
The conscious melodies of life awakes:

478

Yon sky is covered with soft isles of cloud,
Which flash or float as sun and wind command;
The air is balm, the breeze a living joy;
My heart is dumb with an exceeding bliss
Of light and beauty, pouring in from Day's
Enchantment; while beneath yon vernal hill
Whose sunny greenness mirrors all the clouds,
Poetic murmurs from a distant sea
In lulling falls come faintly on the mind.

But now, the wearied Elements prepare
For slumber; modulated breezes swell;
The sky, with ocean-mimicry adorn'd,
Grows pale and paler; soon will stars advance
And seem to palpitate, as there they shine,
With throbbing beauty! Thus will night begin
And earth lie cradled in a dim repose,
Till the pure heaven comes down upon the soul
And all is hush'd beneath a holy spell.
So ends a sabbath; so may sabbaths end
Devoutly sacred, till the wings of Time
Be folded, and eternal sabbath reigns.
For all Thy ministries begin and end
In Love, that glorious synonyme of Thee,
Both in the heavens, and in the heart enshrined!
From the first tear which roll'd down Adam's cheek
To the last pang of living bosoms now,
In light and darkness, still our God is Love!