 | The complete poetical writings of J. G. Holland |  |
THE PALMER'S VISION.
Noon o'er Judea! All the air was beating
With the hot pulses of the day's great heart;
The birds were silent, and the rill retreating
Shrank in its covert, and complained apart,
With the hot pulses of the day's great heart;
The birds were silent, and the rill retreating
Shrank in its covert, and complained apart,
When a lone pilgrim, with his scrip and burdon,
Dropped by the wayside, weary and distressed,
His sinking heart grown faithless of its guerdon—
The city of his recompense and rest.
Dropped by the wayside, weary and distressed,
His sinking heart grown faithless of its guerdon—
The city of his recompense and rest.
No vision yet of Galilee and Tabor!
No glimpse of distant Zion throned and crowned!
Behind him stretched his long and useless labor,
Before him lay the parched and stony ground.
No glimpse of distant Zion throned and crowned!
Behind him stretched his long and useless labor,
Before him lay the parched and stony ground.
He leaned against a shrine of Mary, casting
Its balm of shadow on his aching head,
And worn with toil, and faint with cruel fasting,
He sighed: “O God! O God, that I were dead!
Its balm of shadow on his aching head,
And worn with toil, and faint with cruel fasting,
He sighed: “O God! O God, that I were dead!
“The friends I loved are lost or left behind me;
In penury and loneliness I roam;
These endless paths of penance choke and blind me;
Oh come and take thy wasted pilgrim home!”
In penury and loneliness I roam;
These endless paths of penance choke and blind me;
Oh come and take thy wasted pilgrim home!”
462
Then with the form of Mary bending o'er him,
Her hands in changeless benediction stayed,
The palmer slept, while a swift dream upbore him
To the fair paradise for which he prayed.
Her hands in changeless benediction stayed,
The palmer slept, while a swift dream upbore him
To the fair paradise for which he prayed.
He stood alone, wrapped in divinest wonder;
He saw the pearly gates and jasper walls
Informed with light, and heard the far-off thunder
Of chariot wheels and mighty waterfalls!
He saw the pearly gates and jasper walls
Informed with light, and heard the far-off thunder
Of chariot wheels and mighty waterfalls!
From far and near, in rhythmic palpitations,
Rose on the air the noise of shouts and psalms;
And through the gates he saw the ransomed nations,
Marching and waving their triumphant palms.
Rose on the air the noise of shouts and psalms;
And through the gates he saw the ransomed nations,
Marching and waving their triumphant palms.
And white within the thronging Empyrean,
A golden palm-branch in his kingly hand,
He saw his Lord, the gracious Galilean,
Amid the worship of his myriads stand!
A golden palm-branch in his kingly hand,
He saw his Lord, the gracious Galilean,
Amid the worship of his myriads stand!
“O Jesus! Lord of glory! Bid me enter!
I worship thee! I kiss thy holy rood!”
The pilgrim cried, when from the burning center
A broad-winged angel sought him where he stood.
I worship thee! I kiss thy holy rood!”
The pilgrim cried, when from the burning center
A broad-winged angel sought him where he stood.
“Why art thou here?” in accents deep and tender
Outspoke the messenger. “Dost thou not know
That none may win the city's rest and splendor,
Who do not cut their palms in Jericho?
Outspoke the messenger. “Dost thou not know
That none may win the city's rest and splendor,
Who do not cut their palms in Jericho?
“Go back to earth, thou palmer empty-handed!
Go back to hunger and the toilsome way!
Complete the task that duty hath commanded,
And win the palm thou hast not brought to-day!”
Go back to hunger and the toilsome way!
Complete the task that duty hath commanded,
And win the palm thou hast not brought to-day!”
463
And then the sleeper woke, and gazed around him;
Then springing to his feet with life renewed,
He spurned the faithless weakness that had bound him,
And, faring on, his pilgrimage pursued.
Then springing to his feet with life renewed,
He spurned the faithless weakness that had bound him,
And, faring on, his pilgrimage pursued.
The way was hard, and he grew halt and weary,
But one long day, among the evening hours,
He saw beyond a landscape gray and dreary
The sunset flame on Salem's sacred towers!
But one long day, among the evening hours,
He saw beyond a landscape gray and dreary
The sunset flame on Salem's sacred towers!
O, fainting soul that readest well this story,
Longing through pain for death's benignant balm,
Think not to win a heaven of rest and glory
If thou shalt reach its gates without thy palm!
Longing through pain for death's benignant balm,
Think not to win a heaven of rest and glory
If thou shalt reach its gates without thy palm!
| The complete poetical writings of J. G. Holland | |