 | England |  |
151
PETER THE HERMIT. A.D. 1097.
The cross of our faith is replanted,
The pale dying crescent is daunted,
And we march, that the footprints of Mahommed's slaves
May be wash'd out in blood from our forefather's graves;
Their spirits are hovering o'er us,
And the sword shall to glory restore us.
Campbell's Song of the Greeks.
The pale dying crescent is daunted,
And we march, that the footprints of Mahommed's slaves
May be wash'd out in blood from our forefather's graves;
Their spirits are hovering o'er us,
And the sword shall to glory restore us.
Campbell's Song of the Greeks.
A mighty spirit stirs the sluggish land—
The British hearts are up again: they hear
A lofty call to nerve their palsied hand;
A heavenly summons thunders in their ear,
To scare the heathen from their Saviour's bier!
“Hark!” said the hermit, to the listening mass,
(Whilst from his eyes he wip'd the burning tear)
“Their horses fed upon the sacred grass,
“And on the blessed flowers, around our Saviour's cross.
The British hearts are up again: they hear
A lofty call to nerve their palsied hand;
A heavenly summons thunders in their ear,
To scare the heathen from their Saviour's bier!
“Hark!” said the hermit, to the listening mass,
(Whilst from his eyes he wip'd the burning tear)
“Their horses fed upon the sacred grass,
“And on the blessed flowers, around our Saviour's cross.
“Their eyes, profane, within the inner shade
“Of the graves' dwelling gaze: their footsteps go
“Even on the hallow'd tomb, and, undismay'd,
“They curse the holy pilgrims, who would know
“Christ's dreadful tale of agony, and woe,
“And crucifixion: locust-like, they spread
“Where Eden's flowerets bloomed; and the winds blow
“Their banners on Jerusalem's haughty head—
“They stamp the grave-grass down who sav'd the earthly dead.
“Of the graves' dwelling gaze: their footsteps go
“Even on the hallow'd tomb, and, undismay'd,
“They curse the holy pilgrims, who would know
“Christ's dreadful tale of agony, and woe,
“And crucifixion: locust-like, they spread
“Where Eden's flowerets bloomed; and the winds blow
“Their banners on Jerusalem's haughty head—
“They stamp the grave-grass down who sav'd the earthly dead.
152
“Arise, arise!—They insolently sway
“O'er Syria, Phrygia, and Illyricum,
“Galatia, Caria, and Pamphylia,
“All from the mountains to the sea: they come
“O'er blessed Asia, and have made their home:
“They rule, too, o'er the fertile fields of Spain,
“And on the plains where Carthage is a tomb:
“O'er Palestine, accursed, they e'en do reign—
“Rouse—rouse ye from the dust, and be yourselves again!
“O'er Syria, Phrygia, and Illyricum,
“Galatia, Caria, and Pamphylia,
“All from the mountains to the sea: they come
“O'er blessed Asia, and have made their home:
“They rule, too, o'er the fertile fields of Spain,
“And on the plains where Carthage is a tomb:
“O'er Palestine, accursed, they e'en do reign—
“Rouse—rouse ye from the dust, and be yourselves again!
“Arouse ye! every age will bless your name,
“And every red cross knight be sanctified
“In the undying memories of fame!
“The fruits of martyrdom ye shall divide
“With saints, and dwell for ever, side by side.
“The God of heaven will grant you happiness!
“Do you fear torments, chains, whose souls shall glide
“From living wretchedness to dying bliss?
“Where heavenly glory soars o'er human wickedness?
“And every red cross knight be sanctified
“In the undying memories of fame!
“The fruits of martyrdom ye shall divide
“With saints, and dwell for ever, side by side.
“The God of heaven will grant you happiness!
“Do you fear torments, chains, whose souls shall glide
“From living wretchedness to dying bliss?
“Where heavenly glory soars o'er human wickedness?
“These things your ancestors and martyrs taught,
“By proud example: Death the soul sets free:
“Through Death the mansions of the blest are sought;—
“Death opes the portals of eternity.
“Bound to poor clay, the soul is forc'd to be;
“Heavenly with what is mortal—and divine
“With what is dust. Death causes it to see.
“Death makes it with infinity combine;
“Expands its narrow range immortally to shine.
“By proud example: Death the soul sets free:
“Through Death the mansions of the blest are sought;—
“Death opes the portals of eternity.
“Bound to poor clay, the soul is forc'd to be;
“Heavenly with what is mortal—and divine
“With what is dust. Death causes it to see.
“Death makes it with infinity combine;
“Expands its narrow range immortally to shine.
153
“Purge, then, God's sanctuary; the thieves expel;
“Bring in your Jesus. Kindred, houses, all,
“Forsake; with other patrimonies dwell.
“The world it is your country; heaven your call;
“Held up by God, ye will not, cannot fall—
“The God of increase, power, and majesty.
“Your earthly house, shall be a heavenly hall;
“And where the Lord of Heaven bow'd down to die,
“Ye shall obtain the faith that fits ye for the sky.
“Bring in your Jesus. Kindred, houses, all,
“Forsake; with other patrimonies dwell.
“The world it is your country; heaven your call;
“Held up by God, ye will not, cannot fall—
“The God of increase, power, and majesty.
“Your earthly house, shall be a heavenly hall;
“And where the Lord of Heaven bow'd down to die,
“Ye shall obtain the faith that fits ye for the sky.
“Arise, arise! from this unholy sleep!
“The God on high commands! Your souls shall rot
“In Hell, or ye do break this slumber deep!
“Jerusalem is a bright and blessed spot,
“Where, though ye fall, heaven's crowns will be your lot.
“Ye pass through lovely lands, and ye will gain
“Great wealth of heathen gold; say, will ye not
“Throw off those clouds that hang upon your brain,
“And hunt the tiger forth unto his den again.
“The God on high commands! Your souls shall rot
“In Hell, or ye do break this slumber deep!
“Jerusalem is a bright and blessed spot,
“Where, though ye fall, heaven's crowns will be your lot.
“Ye pass through lovely lands, and ye will gain
“Great wealth of heathen gold; say, will ye not
“Throw off those clouds that hang upon your brain,
“And hunt the tiger forth unto his den again.
“On, with the red cross,—gird ye on the sword—
“Yet shall the sepulchre be sav'd—the place
“Be sanctified, where sleeps our murder'd Lord;
“Or where he slept, till Heaven beheld his face.”
Well spake the enthusiast: well did he encase
In mortal words, the immortal work of love.
Thousands and thousands of the populace
Rush'd to his standard, with the whirlwind's move,
And left their homes to win eternal homes above.
“Yet shall the sepulchre be sav'd—the place
“Be sanctified, where sleeps our murder'd Lord;
“Or where he slept, till Heaven beheld his face.”
Well spake the enthusiast: well did he encase
In mortal words, the immortal work of love.
Thousands and thousands of the populace
Rush'd to his standard, with the whirlwind's move,
And left their homes to win eternal homes above.
154
The husband left his wife and children dear—
His house, his garden, every pleasant thing—
The fields, where he had liv'd—the water clear,
That from his childhood lent its murmuring,
Where still his little children's footsteps ring.
And it was strange and sweet to hear them cry,
At each new town, and, with clear voices, sing
Jerusalem!—Jerusalem!—and sigh,
To know what thousand leagues their father yet must ply.
His house, his garden, every pleasant thing—
The fields, where he had liv'd—the water clear,
That from his childhood lent its murmuring,
Where still his little children's footsteps ring.
And it was strange and sweet to hear them cry,
At each new town, and, with clear voices, sing
Jerusalem!—Jerusalem!—and sigh,
To know what thousand leagues their father yet must ply.
And they did well: it was a noble fight,
That sav'd from double death God's only Son;
That open'd to his sepulchre once more
The light of loving eyes; that fought and won
A right of worship; long, too long, o'errun.
They did defend, not force a creed; they fought
But to remove the clouds that hid their sun.
It was not wealth or conquest that they sought;
But piety sublime awoke the mighty thought.
That sav'd from double death God's only Son;
That open'd to his sepulchre once more
The light of loving eyes; that fought and won
A right of worship; long, too long, o'errun.
They did defend, not force a creed; they fought
But to remove the clouds that hid their sun.
It was not wealth or conquest that they sought;
But piety sublime awoke the mighty thought.
Yea, they did well!—They had endured more
Than martyrdom, of want and nakedness.
Their heart's-blood fed the soil—the grass that bore
Their feet was fat with death; yet not the less
Immortal was their passion; and I bless
My country that such lofty hearts were there:
Bravely, too, did they win, through all distress,
Those sacred towers, that gleam'd o'er their despair,
And knelt and pray'd aloud, by God's own sepulchre.
Than martyrdom, of want and nakedness.
Their heart's-blood fed the soil—the grass that bore
Their feet was fat with death; yet not the less
155
My country that such lofty hearts were there:
Bravely, too, did they win, through all distress,
Those sacred towers, that gleam'd o'er their despair,
And knelt and pray'd aloud, by God's own sepulchre.
Alas! they should have soil'd so great a deed,
And stain'd, with spots of blood, an act so white!
That, flush'd with conquest, they forgot the need
Of conquering self. It was a day so bright,
They should have kept away the hungry night.
But they had seen the murder'd, near and dear;
Their wives and children, in the bloody fight
Of the inhuman foe; so we will hear,
With joy, the gentler tale, and wipe away the tear;
And stain'd, with spots of blood, an act so white!
That, flush'd with conquest, they forgot the need
Of conquering self. It was a day so bright,
They should have kept away the hungry night.
But they had seen the murder'd, near and dear;
Their wives and children, in the bloody fight
Of the inhuman foe; so we will hear,
With joy, the gentler tale, and wipe away the tear;
And write an epitaph for those who died,
When, for the cross, their heart's blood flow'd away:
“Sleep sweetly—though your faith was sorely tried,
It conquer'd, and ye scar'd your foes alway;
And ye shall wake upon the judgment day
With spirits purified, and hear the song
Of joy and jubilee!—Yea, when ye lay
The earthly temple down, that held ye long,
Ye rose to walk in bliss, the heavenly bowers among.”
When, for the cross, their heart's blood flow'd away:
“Sleep sweetly—though your faith was sorely tried,
It conquer'd, and ye scar'd your foes alway;
And ye shall wake upon the judgment day
With spirits purified, and hear the song
Of joy and jubilee!—Yea, when ye lay
The earthly temple down, that held ye long,
Ye rose to walk in bliss, the heavenly bowers among.”
| England | |