 | Minor Poems, including Napoleon |  |
228
A CHRISTMAS CAROL.
I
Jesu Hominum Salvator!Thou who cam'st on earth below,
Taking on thee mortal nature,
Life immortal to bestow:—
II
Thou, who diedst for man's transgression,Thou, who reignest now above;
Still art heard in intercession,
Still art known by acts of love!
III
Fain would I, with rev'rent feeling,Owe my hopes to Thee alone;
To thy Sacrifice appealing,
Cast each crown before thy Throne.
229
IV
Trusting human strength no longer,Henceforth be that weakness mine,
Which attempts not to be stronger
In itself—but power divine!
V
Which seeks not—from depths of science,—Heights of knowledge—aid to draw;
But in humble, meek reliance
On thy Love, would keep thy Law.
VI
Not from superstitious reasonsWould I greet this day with song;
In my view all times and seasons
Unto Thee alike belong.
VII
Who to God this day observeth,Keeps it unto God alone!
He who from its ritual swerveth,
Still may make its good his own.
230
VIII
Outward rites, of man's appointing,Can no inward feeling give;
'Tis Thy Spirit's blest anointing
Bids the soul awake, and live!
IX
This alone, by Thee imparted,Can possess resistless power;
Can preserve the simple-hearted,
In temptation's darkest hour.
X
Not in subtle speculation,Not in codes, or creeds of man,
Not in learned disputation
On thy Gospel's hidden plan:—
XI
Not in reason's proud researches,Fixing thesis, date, or term;
Not in quoting synods, churches,
Dwells Religion's vital germ.
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XII
This is found in spirits tender'd;Hopes that raise our souls above;
Passions chasten'd; wills surrender'd
To thy law of perfect love!
XIII
Time, like some impetuous riverTo the ocean hast'ning on,
Bears us onward to its Giver;
Soon will be for ever gone!
XIV
Let it travel swiftly—slowly,Tow'rds a vast Eternity;
Every day of it were holy,
If it turn'd our hearts to Thee.
XV
This, unto my own appealing,Prompts one tribute to Thy Name;
Warm with many a mingled feeling,
Hope, and fear, and joy, and shame.
232
XVI
Since to thee, in love, or terror,Knees must bend, and tongues confess;
Cleanse my heart from sin and error,
With thy Holy Spirit bless.
XVII
So that, when Death's transient slumberSeal my eyes,—my soul may be
One among the countless number
Ransom'd and redeem'd by Thee!
| Minor Poems, including Napoleon | |