 | The poems of Robert Traill Spence Lowell |  |
139
CHRIST'S LEGACY.
Who deems that Holy Church has lost
The priceless gift the Saviour gave?
Or, as an idle bauble, tost
Beneath the curst world's hungry wave,
Her keys that, all this wide world o'er,
Oped to man's want God's spirit-store?
That now the Kingdom is but earth alone
Where man's poor sight and wisdom seek their own?
The priceless gift the Saviour gave?
Or, as an idle bauble, tost
Beneath the curst world's hungry wave,
Her keys that, all this wide world o'er,
Oped to man's want God's spirit-store?
That now the Kingdom is but earth alone
Where man's poor sight and wisdom seek their own?
Who deems that hidden Paradise,—
Its sweet cool shades, its living streams,
Its lustrous air, from seraph's eyes
Radiant with interwoven beams,
And the eternal Light divine
Filling up all with changeless shine,—
That these, and converse with the dwellers there,
To men in spirit are not free as air?
Its sweet cool shades, its living streams,
Its lustrous air, from seraph's eyes
Radiant with interwoven beams,
And the eternal Light divine
Filling up all with changeless shine,—
That these, and converse with the dwellers there,
To men in spirit are not free as air?
140
That His blest kingdom,—which, Christ said,
Should ever stand while earth doth stand,
And, when the last flames, fierce and red,
Should melt and burn up sea and land,
Transfigured through those fires should glow
Thenceforth no earthliness to know,—
That this hath not one, only, changeless frame,
One as the Lord: on earth, in heaven, the same?
Should ever stand while earth doth stand,
And, when the last flames, fierce and red,
Should melt and burn up sea and land,
Transfigured through those fires should glow
Thenceforth no earthliness to know,—
That this hath not one, only, changeless frame,
One as the Lord: on earth, in heaven, the same?
Or that the Body of the Lord,
The Godhead dwelling in the flesh,—
Is not, to us, as when that Word
In human nature dwelt afresh?
Or that God's fulness, now, as then,
Doth not inhabit in us men,
A fulness that in each of us hath place
Of grace according to our growth in grace?
The Godhead dwelling in the flesh,—
Is not, to us, as when that Word
In human nature dwelt afresh?
Or that God's fulness, now, as then,
Doth not inhabit in us men,
A fulness that in each of us hath place
Of grace according to our growth in grace?
Oh! is not God the selfsame now
As when he put on human frame?
His Body is the Church: and how
Is this, his Body, not the same?
It is the same where'er Faith is:
Christ manifests himself in His:
Where Faith is not, to them is Christ no more
Indwelling, in the Spirit, as of yore.
As when he put on human frame?
His Body is the Church: and how
Is this, his Body, not the same?
It is the same where'er Faith is:
Christ manifests himself in His:
Where Faith is not, to them is Christ no more
Indwelling, in the Spirit, as of yore.
141
This glorious kingdom—rich within,
And glowing with all spirit-powers—
There is no cause, but each man's sin,
If all its treasures be not ours:
Our priests are gifted with the Word.
And every member of the Lord
Hath his own measure of the Holy Ghost:
In the most humble and obedient, most.
And glowing with all spirit-powers—
There is no cause, but each man's sin,
If all its treasures be not ours:
Our priests are gifted with the Word.
And every member of the Lord
Hath his own measure of the Holy Ghost:
In the most humble and obedient, most.
And in the Spirit, oh, what height
The feet of faithful men do mount!
There glossy slopes flow all with light,
And vales are rich with stream and fount.
The pure see God on every side;
Them spirits gently serve and guide;
While earth, to them, is sorrow, shame, and ill,
The church is heaven on earth, about them still.
The feet of faithful men do mount!
There glossy slopes flow all with light,
And vales are rich with stream and fount.
The pure see God on every side;
Them spirits gently serve and guide;
While earth, to them, is sorrow, shame, and ill,
The church is heaven on earth, about them still.
Sweet mysteries to them that love,
Do lead to that eye hath not seen;
An open sky is spread above
Wherein no cloud hath ever been.
The Word wells full in every heart;
Deep calleth unto deep, apart;
And Love, God's being, maketh them all one
In Him, the Father, who are in the Son.
Do lead to that eye hath not seen;
An open sky is spread above
Wherein no cloud hath ever been.
The Word wells full in every heart;
Deep calleth unto deep, apart;
And Love, God's being, maketh them all one
In Him, the Father, who are in the Son.
1849.
| The poems of Robert Traill Spence Lowell | |