The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker Edited from the original manuscripts and annotated copies together with a prefatory notice and bibliography by Alfred Wallis |
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EPHPHATHA. |
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 | The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker |  |
73
EPHPHATHA.
High matins now in bower and hall!
It is the Baptist's festival:
What showers of gold the sunbeams rain,
Through the tall window's purple pane!
What rich hues on the pavement lie,
A molten rainbow from the sky!
It is the Baptist's festival:
What showers of gold the sunbeams rain,
Through the tall window's purple pane!
What rich hues on the pavement lie,
A molten rainbow from the sky!
But light and shadow loveliest fall
Yonder, along the southward wall,
Where ceased, e'en now, the chaunted hymn
Of that grey man whose eyes are dim:
'Twas an old legend, quaintly sung,
Caught from some far barbaric tongue.
Yonder, along the southward wall,
Where ceased, e'en now, the chaunted hymn
Of that grey man whose eyes are dim:
'Twas an old legend, quaintly sung,
Caught from some far barbaric tongue.
He asks, and bread of wheat they bring;
He thirsts for water from the spring
Which flowed of old and still flows on,
With name and memory of St. John:
So fares the pilgrim in that hall,
E'en on the Baptist's festival.
He thirsts for water from the spring
Which flowed of old and still flows on,
With name and memory of St. John:
So fares the pilgrim in that hall,
E'en on the Baptist's festival.
“How sad a sight is blind old age!”
Thus said the lady's youthful page:
“He eats, but sees not on that bread
What glorious radiance there is shed;
He drinks from out that chalice fair,
Nor marks the sunlight glancing there.”
Thus said the lady's youthful page:
“He eats, but sees not on that bread
What glorious radiance there is shed;
He drinks from out that chalice fair,
Nor marks the sunlight glancing there.”
“Watch! gentle Ronald, watch and pray!
And hear once more an old man's lay:
I cannot see the morning pour'd,
Ruddy and rich on this gay board;
I may not trace the noonday light,
Wherewith my bread and bowl are bright:
And hear once more an old man's lay:
74
Ruddy and rich on this gay board;
I may not trace the noonday light,
Wherewith my bread and bowl are bright:
“But thou, whose words are sooth, hast said,
That brightness falls on this fair bread;
Thou sayest—and thy tones be true—
This cup is tinged with heaven's own hue:
I trust thy voice; I know from thee
That which I cannot hear nor see.
That brightness falls on this fair bread;
Thou sayest—and thy tones be true—
This cup is tinged with heaven's own hue:
I trust thy voice; I know from thee
That which I cannot hear nor see.
“Watch! gentle Ronald, watch and pray!
It is the Baptist's holy day!
Go, where in old Morwenna's shrine,
They break the bread and bless the wine;
There meekly bend thy trusting knee,
And touch what sight can never see.
It is the Baptist's holy day!
Go, where in old Morwenna's shrine,
They break the bread and bless the wine;
There meekly bend thy trusting knee,
And touch what sight can never see.
“Thou wilt behold, thy lips may share
All that the cup and paten bear;
But life unseen moves o'er that bread,
A glory on that wine is shed;
A light comes down to breathe and be,
Though hid, like summer suns, from me.
All that the cup and paten bear;
But life unseen moves o'er that bread,
A glory on that wine is shed;
A light comes down to breathe and be,
Though hid, like summer suns, from me.
“Watch! gentle Ronald, watch and pray!
Day oft is night and night is day:
The arrowy glance of lady fair
Beholds not things that throng the air;
The clear bright eye of youthful page
Hath duller ken than blind old age.”
Day oft is night and night is day:
The arrowy glance of lady fair
Beholds not things that throng the air;
The clear bright eye of youthful page
Hath duller ken than blind old age.”
75
'Tis evensong in bower and hall
On the bold Baptist's festival;
The harp is husht and mute the hymn,
The guest is gone whose eyes are dim,
But evermore to Ronald clung
That mystic measure, quaintly sung.
On the bold Baptist's festival;
The harp is husht and mute the hymn,
The guest is gone whose eyes are dim,
But evermore to Ronald clung
That mystic measure, quaintly sung.
June 24th, 1840.
“I have sought in these verses, to suggest a shadow of that beautiful instruction to Christian men, the actual and spiritual presence of our Lord in the second Sacrament of his Church; a primal and perpetual doctrine in the faith once delivered to the Saints. How sadly the simplicity of this hath and has been distorted and disturbed by the gross and sensuous notion of a carnal presence introduced by the Romish innovation of the eleventh century!”—Note in Ecclesia. 1841.
“I have sought in these verses, to suggest the manner of that miraculous event, the actual and etherial Presence of Our Lord in the Second Sacrament of His Church.”—Note in Echoes from Old Cornwall, 1846.
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