Hymns and Poems Original and Translated: By Edward Caswall ... Second Edition |
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| XIV. | XIV. THE ANGELS. |
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 | Hymns and Poems |  |
XIV. THE ANGELS.
Benedicite, Angeli Domini, Domino.
What honour hast Thou given
To these sweet sons of Heaven,
Whom for Thyself, O Lord, Thou didst create!
What mercies hast Thou shown,
Sending them hither down
From age to age
On gracious pilgrimage;
Till Thou Thyself didst come in our estate:
Then upon Thee it was their joy to wait!
To these sweet sons of Heaven,
Whom for Thyself, O Lord, Thou didst create!
What mercies hast Thou shown,
Sending them hither down
From age to age
On gracious pilgrimage;
Till Thou Thyself didst come in our estate:
Then upon Thee it was their joy to wait!
Oft as on them I muse,
Revive those pictures bright,
My infancy's delight,
In ancient Bible cunningly portray'd;
Which in transparent vivid hues
Their past appearances from age to age display'd.—
Revive those pictures bright,
My infancy's delight,
In ancient Bible cunningly portray'd;
Which in transparent vivid hues
Their past appearances from age to age display'd.—
Now Jacob, pillow'd on his stone;
While Angels o'er his head,
By light from moonbeams shed,
On crystal stair are wending up and down:
Now Peter on his prison-floor,
At the mid hour of night
Waked by an Angel bright,
To whom without a touch opens the iron door.
Anon before my gaze
The sheepfolds lie, all bathed in heavenly rays;
While the hymn of Christ's glad birth,
‘Joy in Heaven and peace on earth,’
As once of old it downward stole,
Sings in mine ear, and sinks into my soul.
Then, all in mists of gray
Fading away,
The vision changes to a mantling gloom,
And shows the dim interior of a tomb;
Where on a stone
Two Angels sit alone,
Watching the hallow'd spot where Christ was laid,
When he for human guilt the bloody price had paid.
Risen and free,
Himself I cannot see;
Before mine eyes
Folded apart the sacred napkin lies.
Ah me, how still they sit,
While silently before th' in-flooding Morn
Night's shadows flit!
One at the head, the other at the feet,
Like Cherubim of old beside the mercy-seat!
While Angels o'er his head,
By light from moonbeams shed,
On crystal stair are wending up and down:
403
At the mid hour of night
Waked by an Angel bright,
To whom without a touch opens the iron door.
Anon before my gaze
The sheepfolds lie, all bathed in heavenly rays;
While the hymn of Christ's glad birth,
‘Joy in Heaven and peace on earth,’
As once of old it downward stole,
Sings in mine ear, and sinks into my soul.
Then, all in mists of gray
Fading away,
The vision changes to a mantling gloom,
And shows the dim interior of a tomb;
Where on a stone
Two Angels sit alone,
Watching the hallow'd spot where Christ was laid,
When he for human guilt the bloody price had paid.
Risen and free,
Himself I cannot see;
Before mine eyes
Folded apart the sacred napkin lies.
Ah me, how still they sit,
While silently before th' in-flooding Morn
Night's shadows flit!
One at the head, the other at the feet,
Like Cherubim of old beside the mercy-seat!
| Hymns and Poems | |