The Cathedral, or the Catholic and Apostolic Church in England ::

Now like a widening river opes the scene;
A flying host is seen, and marvellous way,
And sea on either hand, with watery walls.
Heav'n hath come down, and with life-giving touch,
Struck all the desert: there where Nature pin'd,
She hath forgot herself, and looks around—
Rocks gushing, Angel's food, the light, and cloud,
The mountain mantled round with fire and smoke,
And terrible voice. 'Tis desolate around,
And far below stretches that livid sea.
Where o'er his black domain the vulture sails
To mountains far away, bright fruitful lands,
Where God would bear them upon eagle's wings,
But Israel turns away, and fears, and pines!

It is the Christian thro' life's wilderness
Numbering his forty years, and mercy's form
Stretching her arms. 'Tis desolate around,
But with new hopes Heav'n opens in the wild,
We knowing know not, but to Egypt turn.

Like that fam'd Trojan in the Tyrian hall
Who mid the pictur'd host himself descried,

127

I start—and see myself in stern review.
And lo, all life seems teeming with new thoughts,
And other purposes ordain'd of old!
I thread a path replete with embryo life,
Unwinding golden destinies, and oft
Find me in a mysterious balance weigh'd.

What are these washings, ceremonial chains,
And all this flow of sacrificial blood?—
The Holiest of Holies open stands,
On that dread sorrowing Sabbath, which gives life
To all the year, the great Atoning Day.—
Christian, thou tread'st on solemn mysteries,
Strange prophecies, and counsels laid in Heav'n;
Dim clues, which thro' Life's winding labyrinth
Lead on, emerging in ethereal day,
If Wisdom lend her kind conducting hand.

To my dark steps a little further on!
Now Israel sits in Canaan's promis'd rest,
The Lord like His own mountains stands around;
But sounds of arms are on the distant gale;
He sits,—but by his side his sword and shield.
Before, an armed Angel leads the way,
But Superstition's haggard brow, behind,
Gleams darkly, by each hill and green tree's shade,
While fitfully breaks forth the wandering moon
On Canaan's fallen towers. Is this the rest?—

128

I start and look around me—

This the land,
Ordain'd of old, the glad Inheritance?
The Peace beneath the Gospel's sheltering vine?
The heavenly kingdom? Mammon reigneth here;
And Passion's sevenfold host of Canaan born!
Amid a falling world we build again
Their idol temples! Thence arise to view
Times heavy with dark signs, and days of old,
And Noah stretching forth beseeching hands,
Fearfully seen the type of darker days;
Judgment is at the door, and even now
With the dread Coming gleams the Eastern gate,
We plant, and build, and hearing, hear it not.

University of Virginia Library

VI.