The Gospel Miracles :: :: University of Virginia Library

Yet once again, or ere his course be o'er,
The goal be compast, and the conquest won,
On his meek head will heav'n its radiance pour,
And the great Father hail his only Son.
Erewhile, his holy progress scarce begun,
In Jordan's stream he heard the solemn “Hail;”
Again shall hear, his progress well nigh done,
Now that around the shades of evening sail,
And o'er him for a space must night's deep gloom prevail.

But other scene first waits the ravish'd eye
On the broad summit of that mountain lone,
Where Tabor lifts in wooded beauty high
From Esdraelon's plain his flatten'd cone,
“The holy mount” by old tradition known.

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There the meek Saviour of the world to pray
Retir'd, as wont, before his Father's throne:
Hard by, his favour'd three in slumber lay,
For steep the mountain's side, and wearisome the way.

What glorious form their sight awakening views!
Nor nature such magnificence can shew,
Nor fancy paint with visionary hues!
Mark ye what whiteness clothes the mountain snow;
What gems of lustre 'mid its whiteness glow,
Touch'd with the radiance of the morning beams;
What floods of glory from that radiance flow?
More pure, more white his glistering raiment seems;
With radiance more intense his sun-like aspect gleams.

And there two saints of God their eyes behold!
With glory they, but less resplendent, shine,
And holy converse with the Saviour hold:
His death they ponder, and his death's design.
He, who of old time gave the Law divine,
Whose sepulchre no eye of mortal knew:
And he, the mightiest of the Prophet-line,
Who in a whirlwind, far from mortal view,
Rapt in a car of fire, with fiery coursers flew.

Forth are they come, each from his unseen place,
With deep devotion to Messiah's name,
His opening kingdom with their forms to grace,
The Law's intention, and the Prophets' aim.
“Lord, it is good,” a voice is heard exclaim,
'Tis zealous Peter's, “that we sojourn here:
Speak thou; and we will three pavilions frame;
One for thyself majestick let us rear,
For Israel's leader one, one for the Tishbite seer.”

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His words he knew not, o'er his raptur'd soul
So thick, amazement, awe, and terror crowd.
But while he speaks, they see a spreading stole
Of clouded brightness all the mount inshroud.
As thro' the shadow of that golden cloud
Darkling they pass, they prostrate fall for fear;
And hark! a voice thence sounding, deep and loud,
“Behold, my Son, my well-beloved, here!
In him my soul delights: to him, to him give ear!”

The voice is past: and past the shadowy skreen
Of light: and Moses and Elijah gone!
Touch'd the disciples rise; but naught is seen,
Save him who touch'd them, save their Lord alone:
In vain the exploring eyes around are thrown,
But still they rest, which way soe'er they strain,
On Carmel's woods, or snow-crown'd Lebanon,
Tiberias' lake, or Esdraelon's plain,
Or, sparkling far away, Philistia's western main.

Past is the voice; the sight of glory past,
Which, like the lightning, smote the Apostles' sense:
But deeply seated in their memory last
Bright traces of that glory's excellence.
Taught by the heavenly voice, they treasure whence
The Saviour came, and what his birth-right sway,
Surpassing all created pow'r; and thence
Departing, onward look they to the day,
When He to future worlds his glory will display.

Hence on their sight, teeming with holy hope
And bliss immortal, goodly prospects rise.
Forth thro' her prison bars, with ampler scope,
Their soul looks forward, and in vision flies
An eagle's flight above the starry skies:

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There plants her eye in ecstasy on one,
Who sits begirt with angels' symphonies,
In state triumphant, as for victory won,
With snow-white vesture cloth'd, and aspect like the sun.

There see they Moses break his useless rod,
And there Elijah lead the Prophet train,
Who chaunt hosanna to the Son of God;
There their own voices bless Messiah's reign:
And of mankind, who slept or who remain
On earth till then, all at the throne appear:
And hark! from yon bright cloud the voice again,
“Behold, my Son, my well-beloved, here!
In him my soul delights: to him, to him give ear!”

The King is seated: and on either hand,
Here a white flock, and there a sordid herd,
Before his judgment-seat of glory stand.
He hears their doings: he proclaims the word:
These sink rejected; those ascend preferr'd
To groves where streams of living waters flow:
By them on earth Messiah's voice was heard;
Now, where his face they may behold, they go,
His glorious likeness wear, and him their Saviour know.

Close we the view! That passing glimpse was shown
Of majesty, so deem we, to allay
His followers' fears; to make his glories known;
And lead them onward to the one great day.
Enough: awaits him now the hard essay,
To break the toils by hell around him spread,
Drink of the brook of sorrow in the way,
And thro' the vale of death's dark shadow tread,
Ere on the heavenly mount he lifts his glorious head.