The path of sorrow, or, the lament of youth :: :: University of Virginia Library

THE PROPHET'S DREAM.

'Tis the morning of life gives me consummate lore,
And the rainbow of thought casts its shadow before.
“Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.”
Isaiah, VIII: XIV.

I.

Eternal Spirit! lend thy spark, to raise my
Thought above the mountain of my heart! breathe
On the flambeau of my youthful soul—I
Ask in love! do thou inspire my song! Wreathe

Me with garlands! embalm the solemn heart—
The basis of my life—kindle a fire
Of love, that I may act the lyric part,
To sing a prophecy,—exempt from ire;
And tell the world my heart and soul's desire.

II.

Long shall creation's sons blaspheme and sin—
Long shall the earth presume to war with God!
Old things shall die, and young ones come again!
And kingdoms fall before His august nod!
Long years have rolled their ample, ample round,
Since nature rose before Jehovah's words;
Long time the syren trump of peace shall sound,
Until the Prophet shall obey his God—
Go forth—and walk where mortal never trod.

III.

Go forth—proclaim, I am the Saviour,—come!
Proclaim the tidings to creation's bound!
He shall arrise, and Bethl'em be his home!
For heaven, and earth, and hell, shall hear the sound!
Go forth—awake, arise, illume and shine!
Pour out your melody to life and death!
Salvation skirts the shore of earthly time—
Stretch forth thy arm, as God the Father saith,
And breath to Judah, an eternal breath.

IV.

Go forth—to kingdoms, thrones, in friendly might;
A river runs from God's exhaustless sea!
It is a stream of ever pure delight—
The untired ocean of eternity!
Go forth—he shall arise, and David's name
Shall tell his lineage, and his godly worth;
Through time's transitions, he shall be the same—
The symbol of Divinity on earth;
And from a mortal he shall take his birth.

V.

His boundlessness, omnipotence, and love—

His purity, his holines, and youth—
Shall come from God's great throne, above!
The fountain of beatitude and truth;
He shall be mighty, but shall not aspire
Unto earthly glory—He shall arise,
And he shall blaze with that eternal fire,
Which comes beyond the sun—beyond the skies;
And shall be bound to earth by heavenly ties.

VI.

His hand shall help creation's alien race;
His wings shall hover o'er the contrite child!
The mighty men of earth shall see his face,
But no man shall presume to say, He smil'd.
He shall be sanctified by heaven's dew,
And He shall be a stone—a steadfast rock!
And he that doth his path, in love, pursue,
Shall shine again, exempt from hell's foul shock;
And He shall be a pillar on Jehovah's rock.

VII.

The Kings of Zion, and of Israel's land,
Shall prostrate full, and worship at His feet;
The heavens and the earth, by His command,
Shall shake—His outstreached arm shall mete
Creation; and his love—his filial heart—
Shall soothe the sorrows, and the ills of earth;
He shall be born of man, and feel the dart
Of calumny and wrong—as soon as birth—
Impierce—but not effect his boundless worth.

VIII.

His government shall spread o'er all the world;
His righteousness illume this gloomy earth;
He shall be buffetted, but never hurl'd
From truth and love—which gave him wonderous birth;
His kingdom shall be great, and good, and strong!
His glory shall awake creation's things—
He shall be bound with cables—but 'tis wrong—
By Pope's, by Prelate's, and by haughty Kings;
And those whom he protected 'neath his wings.

IX.

Israel shall acknowledge him the Lord!
And Jacob shall acknowledge him his King:
Ephraim and Samaria shall hear his word—
Through time and through eternity, shall ring
His everlasting name—and, as a field
And forest—overgrown, grotesque, and wild,
So shall His goodness be; and he shall yield
A harvest, seven-fold; but sorrow's child,
His name shall be—while on this earthly wild.

X.

The King of Zion's borders shall arise,
And soothe the indignation of the world!
His incense shall ascend above the skies,
And by His covenant, he shall unfurl
Creation's sins; and Oreb's rock shall shake!
The daughters of Jerusalem shall kiss
His garments' hem; and he shall walk, in truth;
His precepts shall Inspire eternal bliss,
And every path he treads shall tend to this.

XI.

Old times are good, this Prophet might have thought;
“All times are good, when old,” a bard has sung,
But while our pleasures intervene, as naught,
We traverse bounds, like He, who suffered young!
Through time and through eternity, remote
And near; and seasons, days, and boundless years,
Shall speak His name; and bards shall here devote
Their days, to sing His glory and his tears,
Shed in the midst of scoffs and petty jeers.

XII.

Oh, Judah! why should I report his name,—
The Pilgrim of Eternity—the son of sons!
Who caught the fire of heaven's eternal flame;
And lit creation's lamp—the Holy One
Of God! the immortal Lamb of grace!
And purity, and matchless love, who died
The great Redeemer, and amidst disgrace,—

Upon the Cross, and bowed, and humbly died!
With heaven's cordial running from his side.

XIII.

Eternal Harp! thy giant numbers roll,
And wake the fires of my youthful heart!
Inspire my song, exalt my finite soul,
To mete infinitude, and ne'er depart
From Truth! and, as I perorate this woe!
Renew the brilliancy of glory's spark—
That man may read, and truly, truly know,
What fountains opened in Immanuel's heart;
And closed the gap made by a felon's dart!

XIV.

His name shall cause great wonder here on earth,
Because he suffered much a weight of woe—
I hope to roll my numbers into youthful worth;
Oh! that they may be useful here below—
Oh, Judah! let his mighty voice cry! and sing,
Hail, lovely day! when first he saw thy face—
How he beheld thee—Bards shall often sing—
Exempt from revellings and low disgrace;
Who found in Bethlehem his resting place.

XV.

My prophecy—Oh, Judah! I have taught,
Since first I saw thee, with prophetic eye—
As God's request—his embrace I have sought,
To raise my future lore above the sky;
For thou art rising with such youthful might,
That I must needs relate thy glorious day;
When thou shalt shine with ever pure delight—
When thou shall brighten every other day;
And give me light from thy eternal ray.

XVI.

Misfortune claims a seat in every heart
Of man! and I shall glory in this joy—
It makes me sorry, when I see the dart,
Which shall, in future, stab that Boy—
The Dove of heaven—in the side and hands;

Whose innocence expounds why he should rise,
A pilgrim through the wilderness and lands,—
Whose glory shall awake the farthest skies;
Where pleasure reigns and never, never dies.

XVII.

Though rest of all that glory, man shall see,
Which danced around his heart, in dawn of life;
Though born of mortal man—to shelter thee,
And full of sorrow, where there's vast relief!
Yet, may the day arrive, when he, who rent
His youthful heart—may fall as he has done;
And suffer such a pang and dire lament!
And not have slandered him, in days, now gone,
But gloried in this laureate gift alone.

XVIII.

Oh, Judah! thou shalt be his resting place;
And thou shalt see him die in blooming youth!
But n'er shall see him brook a sore disgrace,
And bastardize the fount of love and truth;
No; Judah, let thy infant years roll on,—
In joy—by bowing to this sacred law;
Where thy good race, though swiftly run,
The glorious race which my young vision saw,
May fill thy soul with all but conscious awe.

XIX.

Oh, Judah! such a spot of fertile earth,
As thine, beside the banks of Jordan's stream,
Invites my thought—such magnitude and worth!
And claimed the vision of my recent dream.
I saw the farmer stand and count his grain,
And feed his flock beside a numerous host:
I then beheld him feed them o'er again,
And, as he gloried in his riches, sighed!
Infringed the moral law—then bowed and died!

XX.

I saw him shake old friendship by the hand,
And glory in the riches of his home;
And while he gloried in the produce of his land,

The sad remembrance came, he was alone!
Nor left the offspring of his former days,
To be an emblem of what he had been—
To glory in his wickedness and ways—
The martyrdom of souls, by terrene sin;
Which fills me with a lore, I ne'er shall win.

XXI.

Oh, Judah! what I see of thee, I know—
Because thou art a dart to me, indeed;
Nor raise me from the bitterness of woe!
And aid me when I chance to stand in need;
And what could mortal man request beside?
And what could mortal friendship more bestow?
Than give me pleasure when such woes betide!
The offspring of a feeling heart below,
Whose clusters, on the vines of heaven, only grow.

XXII.

But thou art growing old in ireful life—
And much begrimed with insolence and ire!
And thou art much the place of pain and strife—
Like others I have seen from more desire.
'Tis wrong—He shall be comely and sincere,
And heaven, earth and hell, shall see his face—
For His misfortunes shall force down the tear,
And look for smiles upon Jehovah's face;
Nor, think submission to his God—disgrace!

XXIII.

Oh, Judah! I could bring such floods of tears—
Such mighty draughts of rheum from out thy soul,
That all thy sympathies, and all thy fears,
Should like the billows of the ocean roll!
Suffice it now, for me to give you but a sketch
Of his misfortune—every one must feel,
When he is subject to sneers, of every wretch—
In midst of all that appertains to weal,
Which man's unkindness never can conceal.

XXIV.

Above the mountain of my soul, I see

A day—a day of ire, and love, and joy—
Thou dost behold—as well while thou art free,
As I, who am to prophecy misfortune's Boy!
A day is coming, and I mean to live
If death does not expose me to his blasts—
When man shall have no earthly cause to grieve;
But glory in those days which are to last,
As one, who slakes his thirst at God's repast.

XXV.

A Boon shall rise, with strength and heavenly might,
And traverse lands afar, from east to west;
And in the glory of his youthful might,
The fire of God shall be his only guest.
A Boon, his name shall be, and canonized
By God, to be an emblem of his worth;
And by a pilgrim he shall be babtized—
Above the height of his primeval birth—
His name shall soar beyond the arched skies,
And all mankind shall lose him when he dies.

XXVI.

His name, though not extensive, at his morn
Of youthful life, when he awoke to death!
Shall stand as one, who was a mortal born,
And in mortality, a second birth
Received. His name shall wake old Judah's Lyre,
Whose strings shall quiver on old David's car
When he shall rouse the spark of godly fire—
Sometimes to mourn, but most to shed a tear;
As sample of his love, to mortal man, so dear.

XXVII.

His name shall not be used in earthly rhyme,
Except by his disciples, who shall wade
Through all the avenues of sorrow's time;
Till every debt of glory shall be paid.
He shall unfold to man, a doleful tale,
And Zion's borders shall receive the sound!
Creation's knees shall shake—the world grow pale!
For he shall wander to the utmost bound

Of earth, and where he is, the truth is found.

XXVIII.

His height hereditary, too, shall not
Arise above mankind, but shall engage
The world, so that, he shall not be forgot—
But shall be noted on creation's page;
And as he stands adorned in virtue's robes,
His righteousness shall lure each earthly eye;
And o'er the earth—throughout creation's globe,
His name shall shine and never die,
Because, upon his precepts we must all rely.

XXIX.

His name shall first be handed down in pain!
And many a scoff from fools shall try it well;
But they shall falter as rebellious men,
And reap their harvests from the fields of hell!
But wisdom shall not laugh at woe or pain,
Except a dupe steps in with slanderous tongue;
And then, his gaping shall be all in vain;
For he shall weep, because he thus had sung,—
Because his lips had forged an obloquy so wrong.

XXX.

His name shall bear creation's shock with ease,—
Although, at first, he seemed to weep and sigh!
But he shall rise from earth, by slow degrees;
And seek an asylum above the sky.
And what shall his temptation be on earth?
It shall be that which binds man to the world;
It shall be that which gave creation birth,—
By nature's God—from whom it can't be hurled,—
It shall be that which binds man to the world.

XXXI.

His name shall bear the sympathies of life,—
And on the forehead of his dawn shall rise
A stamp—a stamp of sorrow and of strife!
Which shall oft flit before his youthful eyes;
And all the ramparts which his deeds have made,
Shall stand as bulwarks in his own defence;

Until he reaps that harvest which shall never fade,
Which caught the candle of his youthful sense,—
When he awoke his mother's darling boy;
And drank her nectared draught without alloy.

XXXII.

His name shall be exposed to every hoary frost,
Which all the clouds of many ills shall bring!
From out the ocean, where his bark was tossed,
When he awoke a prophet, priest, and king.
But his dear root, from earth, shall not be lost!
Though man may chill his leaves by envy's blast;
Until he stands upon old Jordan's coast,
Where God's own Dove, on pinions fast,
Shall swear his fame, which never shall be lost.

XXXIII.

His days shall brighten as his eyes grow dim!
And as the candle of his life shall die,
The world shall stand and lean on naught but him,
As he doth on His Father's care rely.
And on that eve—the fatal eve to love,
When on his cheek the sweat of death shall rest;
His monument shall reach to God above!
His Father, the Omnipotent, who blessed
Him, when he took that pure baptismal crest.

XXXIV.

Misfortune's shock shall wreck this youthful meed;
In embryo of life, when glory shines
Upon the mountain of his heavenly deeds;
And leave him weeping in a tear divine!
The tares of earth shall spring up in his wheat;
And he shall speak in parables and signs,
His soul shall seek an asylum—a seat,
Beyond the skies, and I will call him mine;
And if thou wilt, he will be humbly thine.

XXXV.

A cloud of ills shall darken his light brow,
Amidst a most remorseless crew of weeds,
Which choke his growth, but he shall pay his vow

To heaven; and God bear record of his deeds!
His cup shall be of acerbitious gall!
Which his pure sympathies shall cast away;
And he shall bear the burden, and shall fall
By hands that would have raised him, on a day
Now passed and gone—but he is far away!

XXXVI.

His day shall come and go, and come again;
And then his prospects shall be withered o'er!
But he shall brave the winds, and hail, and rain,
And pioneer his way to Canaan's shore!
His name shall reach the height of earthly praise—
The height of godly praise, where glory reigns;
And on the organ of eternity, his lays
Shall warble; and, not a line he sings so vain,
But that it shall be quoted o'er and o'er again.

XXXVII.

His much abused and noble heart, shall raise
The intercessions of his contrite soul;
And on the rainbow of his thought, his days
Shall be depicted,—as Jehovah's scroll;
And while his penitential grief shall spring,
Like Flora, from a fertile soil of life,
He shall invoke the spirit of created things,
To sing an elegy of monstrous strife!
Which rain upon his head, Olympic grief!

XXXVIII.

His Bard shall sing, and look far back, on days,
And emulate the organ of the throne!
Whose argument gave scope for all his lays,
On which he chose to meditate alone.—
Till his response shall wake the dormant spark
Of some unborn and penitential youth,
Who shall lay hold the precepts of his heart,
And sing the inborn melodies of love and truth,
Along a path—for aught I know, more smoothe!

XXXIX.

Yet, he shall never weep before 'tis done

Nor shall his tears be seen, but by His eye!
And on the cheek, where God has seen them run,
They shall pour down, until he comes to die!
And why, he shall expose his tears to none—
And why they shall be shed and felt by me?
Are themes, which I had long ago, begun—
And themes, which shall conclude in misery!
And sorrows which I hope you ne'er may see.

XL.

His righteousness and love—all else of worth—
Shall be unrivalled; and his glory too,
Shall rest alone, and beam in going forth;
His soul shall rain affection's pearly dew,
To inundate his cheeks! and he shall eat
The manna from the unseen hand of Him,
Who shall prepare a mansion and a seat,
Beyond the reach of obloquy and sin!
And when his days shall end, they shall begin.

XLI.

His numbers shall continue still to roll,
And ope new fountains in the human heart;
From out the ocean of his mighty soul,—
Which is not yet the whole—'tis but a part!
Shall flow a river, and its waves shall roll
Into the ocean of Eternity!
Which shall unfold the ire of vindiction's soul,
Which heaven, earth, and hell, shall see;
And spirits of Jehovah, with him be.

XLII.

His heart shall grow more warm in truth and love,
The more he takes his soul to reason deep;
And as his cogitation soars above,
He, into secrets of the heart, shall peep!
And raise the mountain where the jewel lies,
Of truth and soberness—and where the hill
Is lofty, and purports to reach the skies,
There shall he dive, and dive, and diving still,
Dip into things beyond the human will.

XLIII.

His name shall wake the silver trump, to sound
His genius o'er this vast licentious isle;
And where He stands, shall be that Holy ground,
Where fools shall lap the lip into a smile.
And why? the callous soul, where'er they live,
Forbids them survey such a lawn of love,
Which gives him pleasure, while his soul forgives;
And when he dies, 'twill point his soul above,
To be transported on the pinions of a dove.

XLIV.

His Father's Lyre shall wake the rolling deep,
And he shall love the Bard of Zion's song;
His probity shall tell who used to weep,
Because he loved her, and she did him wrong!
The Harp he loves, he shall awake to sing;
The Harp he loves, almost as dear as life!
And while his starlight beams upon its strings,
His sympathy shall inundate that strife,
Which cut his heartstrings, in his morn of life.

XLV.

The harp of Judah, which old David strung,
Shall roll its numbers down the tide of time;
And on that heart, which Judah's Jewel hung,
He shall engrave his deeds—not deeds of crime!
And he shall speak of Carmel, and old streams;
And Lebanon which waved her lofty head;
And he shall speak of Jordan, and dream dreams—
Like he, who once, by Ulia, visions read,
In midnight of his sleep,—in friendship's bed.

XLVI.

He shall be heard to speak of Canaan's lands,
And that Jerusalem, which He, the Lord,
Wept over! in her kingly pride, which stands
The light of heaven; and in her dire discord,
She shall bow down in sackcloth; and mildew
Shall be rained from heaven; and this mighty rust
Shall spread o'er all her children, as the dew

Which fell as penitential tears—till dust
Shall bury them—my word is true and just!

XLVII.

Yes, he shall speak of old remembrances
Of days, now passed and gone;—his youthful eye
Shall penetate, as he thus advances,
The hidden shore of God, and when he dies,
Disease shall not disorganize his frame;
Nor shall the incidents of life beguile
His intrepidity; and guilt and shame,
Shall not be his companions,—all the while;
And mortal man shall never see him smile.

XLVIII.

And he shall make the wilderness his home;
And Jordan's stream shall lave his godly frame!—
In embryo of life—he shall atone
For alienated man; his mighty name,
Shall be emblazoned on the highest hill
Of God! remember this—the day shall come,
Which, man of finite eyes shall see,—the hill
On which the throne of the Eternal one
Is built, the citadel of God! great Throne!

XLIX.

And God shall teach him, as an only son,
The path which leads o'er Canaan's lands;
And after his obedient race is run,
He shall protect him with his outstretched hands;
And lead him, as a faithful steward, far
Beyond the sycophants of terrene strife,—
While scintillations from his mighty star,
Shall pilot him to that eternal life,
Where oblectations shine, devoid of grief.

L.

And he shall feed upon the fire of heaven,—
Not like the Pontic monarch did, on bane!
For in the wilderness he shall be driven,
And live for forty days—devoid of pain!
And while the nations flock like painted doves,

The indigent, his hands shall raise from want;
And raise them by his plenitude above,—
Whate'er they wish, if he has it to grant,
He'll give it, without scruple or lament.

LI.

And he shall be a friendly man, indeed!
Because his vital spark arose in heaven;
And time, eternity, and sorrows, creeds—
Shall be his guerdon's song,—from morn till even!
Because, such friendship came from God above;
For where there's knowledge, there the heavenly seed
Is sown, of purity—of holiness—and love;
But, of no earthly man shall stand in need;
And from the fiery clime of earth be freed.

LII.

And as he takes the hands of strangers, smiles
Of such a sort, as doth become a man,
Shall stand upon his cheek—devoid of gulle!
Where many a drop of rheum has often ran!
His eye shall predicate a depth of thought,
Boundless in extent, and glorious worth!
And he shall bow to heaven, as he ought,
While I, who speak, shall hear no more, “go forth!”
And earth shall know him—east, and west, and north.

LIII.

His countenance shall never change, in sight
Of mortal man, although it bears the hue,
And tint of inward strife! and his delight
Shall be for sake of glory,—that, to do,
Will lead him to the sky-capped towers,—
Of Almighty God—beyond our finite sight,—
To warble symphonies in Eden's bowers,—
Amidst the sunbeams of his holy might;
And Iris of an everlasting light.

LIV.

Upon his face, at intervals of thought,
A good discerner may oft trace a theme,
Which he will seek to know, and when 'tis sought,

'Twill end in immortality—a dream
Like airy, far beyond this earthly realm,
Of sublunary smitude and ire!
Until the ocean of his soul o'erwhelms,
And expurgates the callous heart! desire
Of godly good shall burn him with eternal fire.

LV.

And, on his face, unutterable thoughts—
Drawn from the tablet of his soul—shall rise!
A treasure which his godly deeds have bought,—
A patrimony, far beyond the skies!—
A language eloquent, of heart and soul!—
To lift mankind above the mountain height,
Of that Olympic sin, which ever rolls,
Like billows of the sea, in utter night!
To heaven's climate—yes a spring of sweet delight.

LVI.

It shall be wrought by that soul draining tear,—
The exudation of a contrite heart!
In self-abasement shall this King appear,
And feel the point of vast vindiction's dart!
If thou art his disciple, bow thy head!
That thou may'st rise, like he has done, to heaven!
He shall enroll thy name beyond the dead,
As secretary in Jehovah's court,
And his own citadel shall be thy fort.

LVII.

But he shall be a man of no great age,—
Nor of refinement vast, in terrene schools,—
Before his name shall blaze upon the page
Of heaven's jurisdiction; and, earthly fools
Shall satyrize his name of names; and he
Shall bear their obloquy without a frown;
His patience shall be boundless as the sea
Of God, which shall inherit him a crown
Of glory, whose bright sun shall ne'er go down.

LVIII.

His vast refinement shall be Heaven's gift—

Patience, meekness, holiness, and righteous truth!
Boundlessness! Omnipotence! bereft
Of terrene guile! in embryo of youth!
Power, dominion, majesty and grace!
Shall shine with light forever pure and bright,
And in the mirror of his beauteous face,
His soul shall adumbrate its light—
As lamp of his own Father, burning bright.

LIX.

He shall attempt no theme and let it stand
Unsolved; and he shall set no soul on fire!—
Nor e'er attempt that which he cannot hand—
In heaven's vestments,—to awake the lyre—
Down to posterity, to cheer the heart;
And be a living model of his righteous deeds.
His mission, his authority, and chart!
Which God Almighty, printed, as he bleeds!
And it shall be a pilot to the soul that needs.

LX.

His youth shall speak of days and nights to come;
His father shall awake the harp to songs
Divine; and roll his glory to the throne
On high, to tell creation of her wrongs!
His pæans shall invoke the sea of God,—
The great, unfettered, golden, tideless sea!
The waveless, shoreless, calm, pure fount where clods
Have never pondered—an Eternity!
Of unsurveyed beatitude—for thee.

LXI.

And he shall live, and Judah shall reward
Him for his eloquence in verse and song!
Creation, heaven, earth, and seas, and sod!
Shall pay him, as he rolls his theme along;
And the disbursement shall be heaven!
Life eternal, omnipotence, and love!
A changeless morn without a lowering even—
And he shall be translated by a dove
Of God Almighty,—to the throne above.

LXII.

And he shall talk with thunders of the cloud,
While heaven, earth, and hell, shall speak a word
Of him, which Kings of earth shall spread abroad,—
Infested with the canker of the crowd,
And obloquy to blast his name; but he shall
Rest on pillars of eternity! his
Father's outstretched hand shall shield him—his fall
Shall never be; but earth and hell shall kiss
His name, and seek his magnitude of bliss.

LXIII.

And he shall glory in his youth, and live
Up to the dictates of the moral law;
For he shall teach mankind, no more, to grieve;
And why they suffer so much heart-felt awe!
And he shall importune them, hear his words;
And many shall give ear and understand;
Some shall cry out, is this Immanuel—Lord?
How came him here—on Judah's fertile lands?
And seek his death! nor follow his commands.

LXIV.

He shall not fear what mortal man can do;
They may impierce the holy—yet, the soul—
The vast, etherial resident of God!
Shall soar above the height of man's control—
The glory of the world—and he shall wear
The crown of immortality below—
Unseen—not visible, like that sweet tear,
Which rolls within his eye; and he shall bear
His pain, that he may triumph over fear.

LXV.

And he shall meet with oppositions too,
But they shall be the scoffs from fools of ire!
For none has done, as they will wont to do,
Except their souls have felt this earthly fire!
But they shall stand as naught where love remains—
As dust before the bawdy wind of heaven;
And they shall fall—nor shall they rise again;

But like the sun of Greece, their hearts be riven;
And from the light of life, be always driven.

LXVI.

But he shall not expose himself to crowds
Of men, as partizans, to sing his fame;
The seas, the hills, the mountains, and the clouds,
Shall sound Jehovah's trump, to speak his fame.
His love shall grow, a scion from his heart;
Which shall o'erspread the earth, and reach
Beyond the sky; and he shall ne'er depart
From earth, until his words, by God, shall teach
All nations, kingdoms, thrones and tongues, to preach.

LXVII.

And more than all, he shall not live so long,
On earth, that man shall say, he died of years;
But he shall die by hands, that did him wrong,
Beneath their frowns, and scoffs, and petty jeers;
He shall be bruised by men of wretched ire!
But he shall sing obsequiously, the song—
The Jubilee of God! he shall inspire,—
Yea, all his earthly children, save with wrong;
And his disciples shall not see him long.

LXVIII.

He shall remain a monumental shrine,
For heaven, the earth, the sun, the moon, and hell;
And he shall be accosted, for a heavenly crime—
The vast salvation of the world! to tell
Mankind, awake, arise, and onward go!
The Bark of God is in creation's port—
Gird on your helmet, wake, arise, 'tis so!
It is the word of God, and no report;—
Instead of life, they died in hellish sport!

LXIX.

And he, who had denied thrice, alone,
For hell's damned stipend, which shall buy
Him everlasting death did not atone,
Till hell's foul obloquies, had heaved the sigh
Into his soul, and drove him off to weep!

Condemned him unto death! to groan, and die
Through all eternity! and sink into the deep
And silent charnel house of sin, and lie!
In condemnation—hung for passers by.

LXX.

And in the urn which shall receive his frame,
No worm shall reign as empire of his flesh,
Nor shall his mortal part decay—his name
And body shall revisit earth; as fair and fresh,
As Dian's visage; and he shall array
Himself in vestments, which his friends and foes
Shall recognize; he shall arise from clay,
And burst the prison gate of hell; and close
That covenant, for which he died and rose.

LXXI.

My God! at intervals he shall repine!
And he shall weep at mid-hour of the night!
But not for torture, or for earthly crime!
Committed in Jehovah's heavenly sight!
He shall arise in morning, full of lore—
And heal the indigent, the lame and weak!
And he shall sail his bark to Canaan's shore—
Hear me, oh, man! it is this Prophet speaks,
For man's salvation! this, Jehovah seeks.

LXXII.

And he shall make his will like other men—
He shall bequeath a legacy of love,
To his disciples: and heaven, shall say! Amen!
As his vast invocation soars above
The littleness of puny mortals hands;
And he shall point them to the fruitful shore,
Where abdication shall not reach his lands,
To bask in oblectations ever more;
Where he shall soe, what he has seen before.

LXXIII.

And he shall drink of Sharon, and the dew
Of Carmel, in the vineyard of the Lord!
When his disciples shall bid him adieu!

And pass dry-shod o'er Jordan's boundless ford,
To that Jerusalem, above the sky;
Where naught shall interdict his weal—
Where immortality shall never die—
Where sin's foul laws, he shall repeal;
And what is good, he never shall conceal.

LXXIV.

His days shall fade on earth; and when he dies,
He shall look back upon a life well spent;
He shall receive a message from the skies—
A summon, which Jehovah's love has sent.
His Lebanon of God shall shine afar;
And, as the evening of his life goes down,
His soul shall blaze like that eternal star,
Which heaven has reared upon his mighty crown;
And earth shall tremble at Jehovah's frown.

LXXV.

But he shall give far more than this, in love!
He shall resign earth's harp, for one on high!
And it shall be a holy harp: the dove
Of heaven shall respond, and coo a sigh!
In symphonies divine; and wake the ear
Of God, and lure eternity to her!
His cheeks shall be wiped dry, and fear
Shall claim no membership! He shall confer
This favor, which shall supercede all care.

LXXVI.

Oh, Judah, Judah! He would have nursed thee
In his own paternal arms, he would have
Fed thee with the manna of the Lord! see
This multitude of love! awake, arise, and save
Thy self—my God! have I not spent!—
Have I not warned them in their dire disgrace?
And would have saved them from this dire lament!
But they have tortured me, and spit upon my face,—
My God! what shall become of such a place.

LXXVII.

Oh, Judah! He shall claim thee as a friend—

A Mother, Father, and a Brother too!
Thou art his earthly parents, He shall tend
To thy redemption, if thou wilt be true!
Awake, arise—my God! shall I refrain! shall
I continue still, to warn them of their ways!
Shall they blaspheme me, when they seek their fall?
And seek a gloom, instead of heavenly rays?—
Oh, heaven! shake them! shorten all their days.

LXXVIII.

Within thy borders, there, his resting place
Shall be, and no indignity shall brand
His heart; but on the starlight of his face,
Shall beam a rainbow light, and it shall stand
Upon the portals of his soul, through all
The cycles of eternity; and he shall rise,
Where mortal eye has never seen, in mind,
And heartfelt joy; and with the georgeous dyes
From heaven's fount, his hand, by his vast mind,
Shall write the names of his apostles, left behind.

LXXIX.

And he shall die as other men shall die!
Nor shall he e'er return to mother clay!
And he shall on his God alone, rely,
And not on mortal men, and well he may.
His love shall not be bound by penal laws,
Nor shall his faith be built on human will!
He shall be slain for those he never saw!—
Not want, for he shall own heaven at his will;—
This shall be.—He shall my prophecy fulfill.

LXXX.

He shall be great—for through that gloomy pass,
Which leads beyond the eye of mortal man,
His feet shall walk,—and on a sea of glass,
Where rivers of Jehovah's glory ran,
His bark shall sail, while heaven's star
Shall be his pilot, to that unseen bourne,
Beyond this kingdom—He shall shine afar!
And the meridian of his soul shall burn,

But unto earth he shall again return.

LXXXI.

His name shall be forgotten not on earth,
Nor shall the heavens fail to give him praise;
For God's own signature shall swear his worth,
Throughout eternity, of endless days.
His Jubilee shall wake creation's bounds,—
His symphony o'erflow the humble soul;
The heavens and the earth shall then respond,—
While themes, unsung before, shall onward roll
Shoreless and tideless, o'er his worthy soul.

LXXXII.

And he shall be invited to a banquet fair,
Of this foul earth; and his disciples shall
Be there; and one shall steal, and strive to snare
Him for the gain, which shall uproot his fall,
To everlasting death,—before his utmost stay
On earth shall cease!—Oh! what a traitor, vile!
And his eternal ruin!—his curved ways,
Shall there condemn him in his guile;
Though, this pure Pilgrim shall not weep or smile.

LXXXIII.

And they shall spit upon his lovely face,
Though he could blast by his own hands,
Creation, heaven and earth; and this disgrace
Shall brand their souls, within that fatal hour!
With an eternal shame; but man shall love
His innocence, too late! too late!—and he
Shall tell them of his father's court above,
Which He shall visit—they shall wish to see,—
But never shall—throughout Eternity.

LXXXIV.

His government shall rest on pillars vast—
His shoulder shall sustain the envious world;
And on that day, when he shall breathe his last,
He shall not have his strength unfurled!
His name shall be Eternal! and shall sound,
Thou, wonderful! thou mighty! yea, and strong!

And it shall ring to earth's remotest bound,
While hell's foul revelry shall treat him wrong;
And heaven reward him with an endless song.

LXXXV.

An everlasting Father shall he be,—
A matchless Prince—a Saviour and a King!
His feet shall travel, and his eyes shall see
Creation's vast extent, and every godly thing,
Shall please his soul, to all eternity!
He shall be known as the Messiah, sent
By heaven's Jurisdiction, down to earth!
And his chief duty shall be this,—repent!
And claim a passport,—an eternal birth;
While heaven, the seas and lands, shall know his worth.

LXXXVI.

And he shall be protected by his Father's hands,—
But he shall suffer as a mortal would;
He shall invoke the life of Judah's lands,
To flee from evil, and pursue the good.
He shall be slain unto immortal life!
Upon the hoary mount, which bleeds this day!
And he shall drink vindiction's cup of strife,
And lift his obsecration far away,
To that eternal bourne, of nightless day.

LXXXVII.

He shall be slain by men of tameless ire,
And kings shall promulgate it, bold—
I am not guilty of his blood—I do desire
That my name shall never be enrolled;
Far as I wash my hands, so let my deeds
Be expurgated, from the cursed crime,
Of this man's death!—he is that heavenly meed,
Which God has vouchsafed; and these hands of mine,
Shall not be stained with his immortal wine.

LXXXVIII.

But they shall cry aloud, crucify him!
Crucify him! and, on his back, the reed
Shall leave the stripe, from hands of endless sin!

At which Jehovah wept! when, on the hill—
The Calvary of old,—his feet and stainless hands,
Shall feel the nails impierce—he shall fulfill
My Prophecy—he shall be slain, a lamb
Of heaven,—greater than the Paschal of the land.

LXXXIX.

In his heart-felt resignation, he shall
Meekly suffer their revengeful ire!
Yea, hell's most damned! and he shall fall,
By hands, that would, by hell's desire,
Usurp the wise decrees of glory's law!
But they shall weep, and they shall sigh!
When every soul is filled with raging awe;
They would revoke their deeds, and would rely
Upon his precepts, when they come to die.

XC.

And they shall nail his hands and sinless feet,
With piercing nails!—and crown his head with thorns!
And Calvary shall be his lone retreat;
Succeeded by the resurrection morn!—
A brilliant star—Aurora dyed in blood!
Which shall illuminate the trembling earth,
With crimson light; while tears, in sorrow's flood,
Shall inundate the land, for godly worth;
Whose death shall buy him an eternal birth.

XCI.

His righteousness shall stand aloof and shine—
His Truth, Sincerity, and Soberness, shall rise
Above the smitude of mortal man, as sign
Of his great advent, and the arched skies—
With heaven, and earth, and starless hell,
Shall quiver at his fall, and all the world—
Creation's tombs, and every beast, shall tell,
The Saviour of Jehovah has been hurled
To death; but not his name unfurled.

XCII.

And he shall fall to life which never ends!
And from the urn, in which his body laid,

He shall arise; until his name transcends
The bounds and magnitude for which he made
His covenant—this vast eternal debt
Of unmolested love! and he shall fade
No more; but earth shall sigh, and feel regret;
And every cheek of man shall bear the brands,
Which marked his precious side, feet and hands.

XCIII.

He shall be seen by many—from his grave,
The stone shall be removed, and rolled away;
And Mary, his maternal world, shall save
The remnant of his lore, while he shall stay;
For heaven's window shall fly open wide,
And send a pure prismatic, brilliant ray,
Throughout his soul; and he shall safely ride
Up to the throne, where nought shall e'er betide.

XCIV.

He shall be seen, and many speak his name,
And unbelievers shall behold his side;
But they shall touch the gap made in his frame,
By which he bowed, and groaned, and died.
And they shall cry, Indeed, this is the Lord!
The Pilgrim!—the Messiah! the great King
And Prince of earth! and they shall know his words;
And his disciples shall receive a great reward.

XCV.

He shall arise—for earth is not his home!
His mansion is a house, not made with hands—
Eternal in the heavens!—he shall atone
For man's mortality; and Judah's lands
Shall know he made a covenant; for earth
Shall feel it—hell shall know it—and the hand
Of God shall lift him to eternal birth;
From which creation shall infer his worth.

XCVI.

And Olivet shall be his resting place,
Before his transportation to the throne of God;
The sun, the moon, the stars, shall see his face,

And see omnipotence await his nod;
For he shall be anointed—not by hands of man;
And he, who is not worthy to unloose his shoes,
Shall here absolve his mortal frame, where ran
The river of the Lord: and shall refuse—
But he shall be the delegate he'll choose.

XCVII.

And God Almighty shall awake the strain
Of never-dying melody, to sing his praise!
And heaven's brightness shall send forth a flame
Of boundless love; and those immortal rays,
Shall set the candle of his soul on fire!
And heaven's Herald shall alight thereon,
As confirmation of his heart's desire;—
A bright ray, brighter than creation's sun,—
A spark of His, whose cycles ever run.

XCVIII.

His gratitude, his holiness and love,
Shall calm the fierce volcanoes of the soul,
Before he takes his final flight to Jove—
His great Progenitor! the vital fires which roll
O'er all created things of mortal mould!
Where Immortality was born a child
Of adult magnitude—of one day old!
And in the plenitude of glory smiled,—
The silver ocean, death has not defiled.

XCIX.

His pedigreed and patrimonial skill,
In suiting God's emolument to human death!
Shall be the plumed vicegerent, on the hill
Of God's great victory; where his living breath
Shall dimple that untarnished, mighty sea!
Whose waves shall ripple by the zephyr's fan—
The untired ocean of Eternity!
In which the river of Immanuel ran;—
Whose concourse laves the soul of mortal man.

C.

His name shall be recorded in the book

Of God; and he shall wear the robes of life—
Untarnished—and his eagle eye shall look
Beyond the realm of sublunary strife!
From earthly buffettings—above the sky!
He shall repair, and drink the wine of God;
While heaven's flambeau, as he passes by,
Shall expurgate his pure and stainless road,—
As prototype of an unmatched reward.

CI.

He shall descend to hell, as symbol true,
Of what mortality must see and feel!
His precepts shall be washed in heaven's dew,
Which earth's maliciousness shall ne'er conceal;—
He shall be steward in the fruitful field
Of God,—the vineyard of the farthest skies;
And fruitful harvests it shall ever yield,
To feed his soul,—which never, never dies;
And man shall see a part with mortal eyes.

CII.

He shall submit to many a scoff and ire,
Although the stones of earth shall heed his call;
He shall receive the stripes of hell's desire,
But he shall stand,—he shall not fall!
His might, in all his ways, shall here be known,
And mortal man shall see him wake the dead;
His hand shall soothe the orphan's piteous groan!
And from the mortal couch, and dying bed,
He shall awake the sorrowful in dread.

CIII.

He shall expound, and solve all ills of life,
And tell the world a tale, forever new;
He shall unfold to man that pain and strife,
Grew out of his immoral deeds; and shew
Them heaven's path, which led to nightless light,
Beyond the grasp of mortal man; and years,
Of heavenly measurement, in glory bright,
Shall roll o'er gnomen of the Lord, and tears
Shall all be wiped away,—with hell's foul cares.

CIV.

He shall be that donation, God has given,
To rescue mortal man from endless death!
He shall be that bright lamp which shines in heaven,
Suspended in the breeze of earth's foul breath—
He shall be that vicegerent, which shall save
His army, in a prostrate state of sin!
And gain the victory—triumph o'er the grave!
And fly to heaven—God shall let him in;
And cry—“Behold, the Lamb of God is risen.”

CV.

Hail, Legatee! my patrimonial life
Shall be thy guerdon! this sole stipend bought
Creation! confiscated hell's foul strife!
Led glory forth! salvation's wonders wrought!
Defeated death! manacled hell—and threw
Asunder—drank the bitterness—and hurled
The cup of gall, for sanctifying dew!
Drank deep, the hydra of contempt unfurled;
And saved the remnant of a prostrate world.