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232
CHRIST THE PHYSICIAN.
“Now when the sun was setting, all they that had any sick with divers diseases brought them unto him.”
—St. Luke, IV. 40.
The hills of Judea with sunset are bright,
Their fountain-streams flashing, like gold in its light;
The flower of the valley is closing its eye;
The shadows are lengthened, and dwindling to die.
Their fountain-streams flashing, like gold in its light;
The flower of the valley is closing its eye;
The shadows are lengthened, and dwindling to die.
Whilst o'er the smooth lake comes the bland summer air,
Its freight of the mountain aroma to bear,
The bird, flying home, furls her wing by her nest,
To sing her sweet hymn where her little ones rest.
Its freight of the mountain aroma to bear,
The bird, flying home, furls her wing by her nest,
To sing her sweet hymn where her little ones rest.
The scene is all peaceful, in beauty and love
Serene and adoring, while earth looks above,
To Him who, withdrawing the glory of day,
With stars in bright armies her faith will repay.
Serene and adoring, while earth looks above,
To Him who, withdrawing the glory of day,
With stars in bright armies her faith will repay.
But why, at this hour, come yon impotent throng,
With nature refusing to bear them along,—
Her forces enfeebled whilst onward they urge,
And thus from afar to one centre converge?
With nature refusing to bear them along,—
Her forces enfeebled whilst onward they urge,
And thus from afar to one centre converge?
The palsied, the crippled, the deaf, and the blind;
The wasted in body, the tortured in mind;
The wild-fire of frenzy, the frost of despair,
With many-formed ills, in assembly are there.
The wasted in body, the tortured in mind;
The wild-fire of frenzy, the frost of despair,
With many-formed ills, in assembly are there.
233
And lo, the Physician!—benign doth he stand,
With myrrh in his vesture, with life in his hand;
And those who draw near shall find healing for them,
Although of his garment they touch but the hem!
With myrrh in his vesture, with life in his hand;
And those who draw near shall find healing for them,
Although of his garment they touch but the hem!
Now, o'er the wan cheek, see the health-roses come!
The blind receive sight, speech is heard from the dumb;
The palsied walk forth, every form is made whole;
The demon possessor is chased from the soul!
The blind receive sight, speech is heard from the dumb;
The palsied walk forth, every form is made whole;
The demon possessor is chased from the soul!
But who is this mighty Physician, so sure
At once every evil to reach, and to cure?
From what secret source are his medicines brought?
In whose holy name are his miracles wrought?
At once every evil to reach, and to cure?
From what secret source are his medicines brought?
In whose holy name are his miracles wrought?
O, Christ is the Healer!—the balm he bestows
From his heart of pity, for man ever flows.
“I will,” is the name, the prescription he gives,
When healed is the sick,—when the dead again lives!
From his heart of pity, for man ever flows.
“I will,” is the name, the prescription he gives,
When healed is the sick,—when the dead again lives!
Yet not for these only doth Jesus appear:
To woe's latest heir in all time to be near,
Himself must be wounded, a life-giving Tree,
With balsam for all ever-flowing and free.
To woe's latest heir in all time to be near,
Himself must be wounded, a life-giving Tree,
With balsam for all ever-flowing and free.
And down through all ages those balm-drops shall fall;
Till earth's farthest borders respond to the call,—
“Ye weary, ye wounded, ye sorrow-oppressed,
Come all unto me, and find healing and rest!”
Till earth's farthest borders respond to the call,—
“Ye weary, ye wounded, ye sorrow-oppressed,
Come all unto me, and find healing and rest!”
He would little children should come unto him,
Ere life's morning-beams with its vapors are dim:
But none may despair,—there is time even yet,
Though low be our sun, if we come ere it set.
Ere life's morning-beams with its vapors are dim:
But none may despair,—there is time even yet,
Though low be our sun, if we come ere it set.
234
At length from Mount Zion shall Jesus look down,
And Death melt away in the light of his crown;
While they who, in faith, now their wants to him bring,
In glory surround him, adoring their King.
And Death melt away in the light of his crown;
While they who, in faith, now their wants to him bring,
In glory surround him, adoring their King.
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