 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
ELOQUENCE.
Likest the first Apostle,
Fearless of scoffs he stood,
Preaching Christ and the resurrection
To the eager multitude.
Fearless of scoffs he stood,
Preaching Christ and the resurrection
To the eager multitude.
The light on his broad clear forehead
Fell not from the gorgeous pane,
As he spoke of the blessed Jesus,
Who died, and is risen again.
Fell not from the gorgeous pane,
As he spoke of the blessed Jesus,
Who died, and is risen again.
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How beautiful on the mountains
The feet of the righteous are;
How sweet is the silver singing
Of lips that are used to prayer.
The feet of the righteous are;
How sweet is the silver singing
Of lips that are used to prayer.
Will the rain of the dull, cold autumn
Awaken the sleeping flower?
Or the heart of the sinful soften,
Though the godless preach with power?
Awaken the sleeping flower?
Or the heart of the sinful soften,
Though the godless preach with power?
But the light of the golden summer
Will ripen the harvest grain,
And words that are fitly spoken
Will meet a response again.
Will ripen the harvest grain,
And words that are fitly spoken
Will meet a response again.
And the hearts of a thousand bosoms
Shrank frightened and trembling back,
Like a fawn in a heath of blossoms,
With the hunters on its track.
Shrank frightened and trembling back,
Like a fawn in a heath of blossoms,
With the hunters on its track.
For they heard, as the full tone deepened
To eloquence sublime,
Echoes of muffled footsteps
In the corridors of crime;
To eloquence sublime,
Echoes of muffled footsteps
In the corridors of crime;
And saw the low-voiced Tempter
Thence lure the weak to die,
As the bird in narrowing circles
Goes down to the serpent's eye.
Thence lure the weak to die,
As the bird in narrowing circles
Goes down to the serpent's eye.
But when of Heaven's sweet mercy
He bade them not despair,
Bright through the vaulted temple
Floated the wings of prayer.
He bade them not despair,
Bright through the vaulted temple
Floated the wings of prayer.
As home I journeyed slowly
From the multitude apart,
Messengers good and holy
Kept knocking at my heart.
From the multitude apart,
Messengers good and holy
Kept knocking at my heart.
When sleep descended brightly,
I heard the anthem's roll,
And all night my heart beat lightly
To the music in my soul.
I heard the anthem's roll,
And all night my heart beat lightly
To the music in my soul.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |