The Gospel Miracles In A Series of Poetical Sketches: With Illustrative Conversations. By Richard Mant |
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 | The Gospel Miracles |  |
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THE DISCIPLE WARNED.
Yes, awful was the word,
Which on thy lake, Gennesaret,
Erewhile Bethsaida's fishers heard;
The sinking ship, the yielding net,
The draught o'erwhelming, told the Speaker's power:
While, in that marvel's thrilling hour,
He bade them friends, and home, and all forego,
And follow him their guide, betide them weal or woe.
Which on thy lake, Gennesaret,
Erewhile Bethsaida's fishers heard;
The sinking ship, the yielding net,
The draught o'erwhelming, told the Speaker's power:
While, in that marvel's thrilling hour,
He bade them friends, and home, and all forego,
And follow him their guide, betide them weal or woe.
But still more full of awe
The word appear'd, when next thy strand,
Gennesaret, like marvel saw,
And heard pronounc'd the like command.
Once and again, on Peter's ear it fell,
Of life's frail joys the passing knell:
And, as it pointed to the fatal tree,
“Behold thy lot!” exclaimed; “but on, and follow me!”
The word appear'd, when next thy strand,
Gennesaret, like marvel saw,
And heard pronounc'd the like command.
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Of life's frail joys the passing knell:
And, as it pointed to the fatal tree,
“Behold thy lot!” exclaimed; “but on, and follow me!”
Was it to thee alone,
Simon Bar-Jona, and the band,
Who share with thee the Apostles' throne,
Was given the Saviour's high command?
Ah, no! To each, who names the Saviour's name,
And in his realm a place would claim,
That high command is given, with watchful heed
To mark, and follow well, whither his footsteps lead.
Simon Bar-Jona, and the band,
Who share with thee the Apostles' throne,
Was given the Saviour's high command?
Ah, no! To each, who names the Saviour's name,
And in his realm a place would claim,
That high command is given, with watchful heed
To mark, and follow well, whither his footsteps lead.
Who followeth well his Lord?
Rous'd by that voice the heart inquires.
He who 'mid tortures most abhorr'd,
'Mid persecution's racks and fires,
Prompt at his Lord's command concludes his race,
As if he sank in sleep's embrace:
His stated work of Christian duty done,
Ere nature's promis'd course of life and strength be run.
Rous'd by that voice the heart inquires.
He who 'mid tortures most abhorr'd,
'Mid persecution's racks and fires,
Prompt at his Lord's command concludes his race,
As if he sank in sleep's embrace:
His stated work of Christian duty done,
Ere nature's promis'd course of life and strength be run.
His end so Peter found:
His witness to the Gospel borne,
His outstretch'd arms the torturers bound,
And girt him to the tree of scorn.
All meekly passive as the sufferer stood;
They girt him on the fatal rood;
While 'mid his lingering pangs serene he proved,
How well he copied Him, whom well and long he loved.
His witness to the Gospel borne,
His outstretch'd arms the torturers bound,
And girt him to the tree of scorn.
All meekly passive as the sufferer stood;
They girt him on the fatal rood;
While 'mid his lingering pangs serene he proved,
How well he copied Him, whom well and long he loved.
Who followeth well his Lord?
Again the anxious heart demands.
He, who, submissive to his word,
With eyes that watch his Master's hands,
Survives with stedfast foot content to press
The peaceful path of holiness;
Till, at the portal of death's shadowy vale,
He finds his life at once and worn-out nature fail.
Again the anxious heart demands.
He, who, submissive to his word,
With eyes that watch his Master's hands,
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The peaceful path of holiness;
Till, at the portal of death's shadowy vale,
He finds his life at once and worn-out nature fail.
So the beloved John,
Saved from the world's tumultuous strife,
To his last goal mov'd slowly on,
Along the gentle slope of life.
Fain had he borne the martyr's ruthless fate:
But wisdom will'd him yet to wait,
Till Christ should come with late and mild release,
And bid him, full of years, depart at length in peace.
Saved from the world's tumultuous strife,
To his last goal mov'd slowly on,
Along the gentle slope of life.
Fain had he borne the martyr's ruthless fate:
But wisdom will'd him yet to wait,
Till Christ should come with late and mild release,
And bid him, full of years, depart at length in peace.
To each his task, his meed!
To him, who smil'd betimes on death,
Call'd for his Saviour's sake to bleed,
To him belongs the martyr's wreath.
Nor less for him, whose lengthen'd life fulfill'd
The tranquil course his Saviour will'd,
A crown unfading on his hoary head,
With love and goodness grac'd, has glory's radiance shed.
To him, who smil'd betimes on death,
Call'd for his Saviour's sake to bleed,
To him belongs the martyr's wreath.
Nor less for him, whose lengthen'd life fulfill'd
The tranquil course his Saviour will'd,
A crown unfading on his hoary head,
With love and goodness grac'd, has glory's radiance shed.
Such follow well their Lord!
Not he, who with intemperate aim
Presumptuous on the murderous sword,
The bitter cross, the burning flame,
When duty calls him not, untimely runs:
Nor he, who timorously shuns
The murderous sword, the cross, the flame to share,
When duty calls him on to suffer and to dare.
Not he, who with intemperate aim
Presumptuous on the murderous sword,
The bitter cross, the burning flame,
When duty calls him not, untimely runs:
Nor he, who timorously shuns
The murderous sword, the cross, the flame to share,
When duty calls him on to suffer and to dare.
But he, whose deeds and heart,
Train'd in the school of Christian lore,
Aspire the Christian soldier's part
To bear, as erst his Captain bore:
Still ready, at his Lord's appointed time,
In feeble eld, or manhood's prime,
To follow, where his Leader points the way;
To go, if he commands; if he commands, to stay.
Train'd in the school of Christian lore,
Aspire the Christian soldier's part
To bear, as erst his Captain bore:
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In feeble eld, or manhood's prime,
To follow, where his Leader points the way;
To go, if he commands; if he commands, to stay.
Then yield thee, to fulfil,
Thou, who hast pledged the Christian's vow,
And bear'st His name, thy Captain's will,
His soldier and his servant thou!
Howe'er thy days be number'd; if the prime
Of early vigour see thy time
Of sojourn here concluded, or thine age
Creep on for many a year thro' life's long pilgrimage:
Thou, who hast pledged the Christian's vow,
And bear'st His name, thy Captain's will,
His soldier and his servant thou!
Howe'er thy days be number'd; if the prime
Of early vigour see thy time
Of sojourn here concluded, or thine age
Creep on for many a year thro' life's long pilgrimage:
Howe'er thy lot be cast;
Whether 'mid gusts and angry storms,
Fierce as Gennesaret's mountain blast
Which the bright sunny lake deforms;
Or haply 'mid fair scenes and days serene,
Smooth as Gennesaret's waters sheen,
Which thro' the clearness of their crystal show
The sparkling pebbly sand, and painted shells below:
Whether 'mid gusts and angry storms,
Fierce as Gennesaret's mountain blast
Which the bright sunny lake deforms;
Or haply 'mid fair scenes and days serene,
Smooth as Gennesaret's waters sheen,
Which thro' the clearness of their crystal show
The sparkling pebbly sand, and painted shells below:
Be He thy polar light!
Be He, and His “well done” thy aim!
He, who thro' years' unnumbered flight,
To-day, for ever, is the same:
He, who can bid the tempest harmless play,
And clear it with a breath away;
Or save thee from the ambush'd ills that lie
Beneath a tranquil sea, soft airs, and cloudless sky.
Be He, and His “well done” thy aim!
He, who thro' years' unnumbered flight,
To-day, for ever, is the same:
He, who can bid the tempest harmless play,
And clear it with a breath away;
Or save thee from the ambush'd ills that lie
Beneath a tranquil sea, soft airs, and cloudless sky.
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