University of Virginia Library

SONNETS ON THE TYPES.

THE BRAZEN ALTAR.

Fashioned of shining brass, God's Altar stood
Four-square—its pointed corners raised on high,
Like lifted hands appealing to the sky
In silence, touched with sacrificial blood.
Here, through the ages, on the typic wood
A myriad shadows of One Victim lie,
Feeding the sire which nought could satisfy
Till Calvary quenched it with a crimson flood.
“We have an Altar;” unto which we fly
Guilty for refuge. Glorious, strong to endure,
By faith we grasp it, and can never die;
For in God's ear it speaketh mightily
Of One whose sinless life and offering pure
Wrought for our souls a hope Divinely sure.

THE LAVER OR MOLTEN SEA.

A molten sea beneath the open sky,
With fruit and lilies carved around its rim,
And filled with crystal water to the brim,
On twelve symbolic oxen is raised high—
Which face the four winds with prophetic eye.
Is it from sunset clouds that o'er it swim
The water blushes, or prefiguring Him
Who came to shed His precious blood and die.
Lord, I would bathe me in that crimson sea,
And leave it, like the lilies, white and fair,
To go about and bring forth fruit for Thee,
While the dear burden of Thy Name I bear;
With patient labour lifting to the light
The Grace which passes thought in breadth, depth, height.

THE GOLDEN CANDLESTICK.

From suns that set or moons that change no light
Entered the Holy Place; but utter gloom
Pervaded that mysterious ante-room,
Till from the Candlestick there burst a bright
And sevenfold stream of glory, day and night;
And, like a lamp that burns within a tomb,
The golden branches, olive-fed, illume
The darkness with a flame that soothes the sight.
So not from light of Nature but of Grace
The lamp of Truth, with branches manifold,
Shines brightly in the Church—earth's holy place:
Oh, may it shed a lustre clear and bold,
The world to illumine and the Lord to greet,
Whene'er we hear approach His priestly feet!

THE TABLE OF SHEWBREAD,

(OR, HEBREW, BREAD OF FACES.)

May gifts of mine encounter that dread Face?
And will the holy eye of God endure
My faulty service and account it pure?
Yes, if my life and ordered works I place
Upon the golden Table of His grace:
Once laid in faith on that foundation sure,
Of God's approving smile they are secure—
The building precious for its glorious base.
Lord, I would bring Thee not the casual ears
Of faint desires, but the compacted bread
Of loving labour, godly toils and tears,
Of consecrated heart and hand and head:
Thus would I live as in Thy presence, Lord,
Thy presence my “exceeding great reward.”

THE VEIL OF THE TEMPLE.

The royal purple and the heavenly blue
With mystic crimson richly intertwine,
To weave a cunning veil before the shrine
Of glory, all too bright for mortal view.
One only—once a year—may venture through
That curtain, to behold the Light Divine.
Not without blood and incense—twofold sign—
In fear he entered and in fear withdrew.
Not yet the way to the Holiest was made plain;
Not yet on men might Heaven's full glory shine,
Till Christ's last sigh sundered the Veil in twain;
And now through His rent “flesh” the right is mine
Fearless to pass yon veil of azure hue,
And bask in bliss supreme, eternal, true.

MANNA.

Morn after morn on Paran's grassy floor
Lay Israel's pearl-like food, celestial, sweet;
The dew, exhaling, left it at their feet,
Circling their tents up to the very door;
They only stooped to gather it—no more;
No sowing, reaping, threshing of the wheat—
The corn of Heaven came down to them complete,
Without their toil or cost, a bounteous store.
Thus spiritual Manna now is shed
Around our homes, enough for all and each,
Without our labour, in abundance spread;
Only let Faith her daily hand out-reach
And gather for herself the Living Bread,
Sweet and refreshing past the power of speech.

THE BRAZEN SERPENT.

I hear a sharp, “exceeding bitter cry;”
I see a wild and horror-stricken crowd,
Strong men and children in fierce anguish bow'd—
The writhing limb, drooped head, and filming eye.
I see a symbol strange uplifted high,
A coilèd serpent, like a banner proud;
I hear a burst of gladness rising loud,
Responsive to a look of ecstasy.
I see a sinful, suffering, dying world—
Like ocean, dark with cloud and toss'd with storm;
But lo! a blood-red banner is unfurled,
Which floats around a gracious, drooping Form:
And through the dimness falls a mighty voice,
“O earth, earth, earth, behold, believe, rejoice!”

THE HYSSOP.

Not to the cedar on the mountain height,
But to the hyssop springing from the wall;
Not to a monarch-tree, broad-branched and tall,
But to a lowly herb, fragile and slight,
Is faith compared. Yet hyssop, on that night
When Death o'er Egypt settled like a pall,
Shone as the sceptre of the Lord of all,
Outstretched to guard His own with saving might.
Lord, with that sacred hyssop, which could give
A moment's solace to Thy mortal woe,
Purge me from all my sin, and bid me live,
And guard and comfort me where'er I go;
I seek not high things like the cedar tree,
The blood-stained hyssop is enough for me.

THE RED HEIFER.

What means that victim in procession led
Beyond the precincts of the camp, and slain;
Unmarked by servile yoke or any stain
Discolouring its coat of mystic red?
Soon on that holocaust the fire has fed;
But stored with care its ashes still remain,
And dipt in water once and once again,
Like healing dews on souls defiled are shed.
Lord Jesus, who “without the gate” didst make
Thyself an Offering, crimson, spotless, free,
Now let the finger of Thy Spirit take
The “water and the blood” and sprinkle me;
And daily show me, treasured in the skies,
The abiding power of the One Sacrifice!

THE SCAPEGOAT.

With solemn voice the white-robed priest confesses
O'er the devoted Scapegoat Israel's sin;
While—token of the burden felt within—
With heavy hands upon its head he presses.
The sin-bearer departing, new hope blesses
The watching, praying host. Straight they begin
The peacefulness of pardoned guilt to win;
Comfort Divine their thankful heart possesses.
The goat has passed beyond the horizon's rim;
The guilt is seen to fade away and vanish;
So when the hand of faith we place on Him,
Who came our myriad sins to blot and banish,
Laid on our Surety's head they disappear,
And all the horizon of the soul is clear.

THE PASCHAL LAMB.

Since Christ, our Passover, for us was slain,
'Tis our's to keep perpetual “holy day,”
And with a life-long gladness praise and pray:
For sin is gone, and peace and joy remain.
On the heart's lintel shines the crimson stain
Which keeps the fatal terror far away;
Secure we rest by night and work by day,
While justice sleeps, and love and mercy reign.
Oh, worthy, worthy is the Lamb who stood
A spotless Victim in the sinner's place,
And bought our safety with His innocent blood!
And precious, precious is the deathless grace
Which gives His flesh to be our daily food,
As faith's dim path o'er life's drear sands we trace.