Lazarus And other Poems By E. H. Plumptre. Fourth Edition |
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II. JAAZANIAH.
“Then I took Jaazaniah the son of Jeremiah, the son of Habaziniah, and
his brethren, and all his sons, and the whole house of the Rechabites, and I
brought them into the house of the Lord.”
—Jerem. xxxv. 3.
It is not that our hearts have waxen faint,
Or wills grown false. We blush not to confess
Our father's name, and still the vows we keep
By which he bound us. But the times were hard;
The great King's armies ravaged all the land,
Bitter and hasty, mad with lust and rage,
And all our flocks and herds they tore away,
Nor spared or infant smiling at the breast,
Or hoary-headed age. And so we dwell
Within the city's walls, who, long years past,
Ne'er slept beneath a roof, but still in tents
Lived as our fathers lived. We loathe the change:
The bright, keen air that swept the uplands wild,
Sweet with the fragrance of the fields of God,
We breathe no more; but, stifling, dense, and thick,
Charged with the taint of pestilence and death,
Foul as the draught-house which, of olden time,
Reared its proud height exulting, as a shrine
Where Baal sat enthroned, which he, our sire,
The son of Rechab, stript of all its pride,
The city's vapours choke us. And our garb,
Our speech, our customs, all are put to shame;
The revellers and the drunkards make their songs
Because we feast not with them, and they tempt
Our purer youth to stain their souls with sin;
And, in the twilight, where the cross-ways meet,
The harlot-stranger greets them with her wiles,
And lures them to the chambers of the dead;
And so the cry goes up, as once it went
From Admah and Zeboim, and the cup
Fills evermore, till soon the wrath of God
Shall overflow in fury. Base and foul
This life of cities: now we see and know
The wisdom of the oath that bade us shun
And hate it evermore.
Or wills grown false. We blush not to confess
Our father's name, and still the vows we keep
By which he bound us. But the times were hard;
The great King's armies ravaged all the land,
Bitter and hasty, mad with lust and rage,
And all our flocks and herds they tore away,
Nor spared or infant smiling at the breast,
Or hoary-headed age. And so we dwell
Within the city's walls, who, long years past,
Ne'er slept beneath a roof, but still in tents
Lived as our fathers lived. We loathe the change:
The bright, keen air that swept the uplands wild,
Sweet with the fragrance of the fields of God,
We breathe no more; but, stifling, dense, and thick,
Charged with the taint of pestilence and death,
107
Reared its proud height exulting, as a shrine
Where Baal sat enthroned, which he, our sire,
The son of Rechab, stript of all its pride,
The city's vapours choke us. And our garb,
Our speech, our customs, all are put to shame;
The revellers and the drunkards make their songs
Because we feast not with them, and they tempt
Our purer youth to stain their souls with sin;
And, in the twilight, where the cross-ways meet,
The harlot-stranger greets them with her wiles,
And lures them to the chambers of the dead;
And so the cry goes up, as once it went
From Admah and Zeboim, and the cup
Fills evermore, till soon the wrath of God
Shall overflow in fury. Base and foul
This life of cities: now we see and know
The wisdom of the oath that bade us shun
And hate it evermore.
And yet we found
E'en there a remnant, faithful friends and true,
Servants of God, and all our hearts leapt up,
When through the Temple's gates, and stately courts,
We passed adoring. Not till then our eyes
Had looked on that full splendour, nor our ears
Heard the clear trumpets which the priests of God
Blow loud and long, or that great shout of praise,
When Hallelujah from the white-robed choir
Rises on high, and thousand voices chant,
Re-echoing Hallelujah, wave on wave,
The sound of many waters. All our days
Till now, when Sabbaths bade us rest from toil,
Or new-moon feast filled every soul with joy,
We gathered here or there, in tent or grove,
Where'er a prophet met us; and we prayed,
And he declared his message, and we heard,
And so we went our way. But now we tread
The courts of God, which He of old chose out
To set His Name there; and the cedarn roof,
Fretted and bossed with gold of Ophir, carved
With all the workman's cunning, wins our gaze.
Here, where great David's greater son stood up,
And prayed his prayer; where, bright and lustrous, shone
The glory of the Presence, sapphire gleams
And amber brightness, blent with orient rays
Of amethyst and emerald; here to kneel,
And watch the thousand pilgrims as they pass,
And see the sheep and oxen, flocks and herds,
Driven to the altars,—this is joy, indeed;
And fain our steps would tread the hallowed way,
And fain our voice would swell the surging praise,
And rather would we stay to keep the doors,
And sweep the pavement of the House of God,
Than dwell where all the proud ones in their tents
Exult in conquest.
E'en there a remnant, faithful friends and true,
Servants of God, and all our hearts leapt up,
When through the Temple's gates, and stately courts,
We passed adoring. Not till then our eyes
Had looked on that full splendour, nor our ears
Heard the clear trumpets which the priests of God
Blow loud and long, or that great shout of praise,
When Hallelujah from the white-robed choir
108
Re-echoing Hallelujah, wave on wave,
The sound of many waters. All our days
Till now, when Sabbaths bade us rest from toil,
Or new-moon feast filled every soul with joy,
We gathered here or there, in tent or grove,
Where'er a prophet met us; and we prayed,
And he declared his message, and we heard,
And so we went our way. But now we tread
The courts of God, which He of old chose out
To set His Name there; and the cedarn roof,
Fretted and bossed with gold of Ophir, carved
With all the workman's cunning, wins our gaze.
Here, where great David's greater son stood up,
And prayed his prayer; where, bright and lustrous, shone
The glory of the Presence, sapphire gleams
And amber brightness, blent with orient rays
Of amethyst and emerald; here to kneel,
And watch the thousand pilgrims as they pass,
And see the sheep and oxen, flocks and herds,
Driven to the altars,—this is joy, indeed;
And fain our steps would tread the hallowed way,
And fain our voice would swell the surging praise,
And rather would we stay to keep the doors,
And sweep the pavement of the House of God,
Than dwell where all the proud ones in their tents
Exult in conquest.
109
Not in vain that wish:
They welcomed us, the prophets and the priests,
As friends and brothers, and with open hearts
Gave all we needed. Chief among them all,
Stood forth the pale, sad seer of Anathoth,
The man of many woes, whose gleaming eyes
Told of a fire still burning, and whose lips
Now slow and feeble, now of mightiest speech,
Make known the thoughts of God. He owned in us
A kindred life, for he, too, dwelt apart,
An exile from his own, and would not tread
The house of feasting; and at him they scoffed
Who scoffed at us, and evermore they cried,
“Lo! the mad prophet: hear him rave again.”
They welcomed us, the prophets and the priests,
As friends and brothers, and with open hearts
Gave all we needed. Chief among them all,
Stood forth the pale, sad seer of Anathoth,
The man of many woes, whose gleaming eyes
Told of a fire still burning, and whose lips
Now slow and feeble, now of mightiest speech,
Make known the thoughts of God. He owned in us
A kindred life, for he, too, dwelt apart,
An exile from his own, and would not tread
The house of feasting; and at him they scoffed
Who scoffed at us, and evermore they cried,
“Lo! the mad prophet: hear him rave again.”
One morn he came to us. The prophet's hour
Was on him; not with common speech, or mien
Of wonted calmness, but in heat of soul,
With clear, fixed eye, and voice that whispered low,
As one on whom the hand of God weighs hard,
He spake his will, and bade me follow him
With all my father's house. Through gate and court
He led the way to where the eastern tower
Looks down on Kidron. There the chamber stands
Where Hanan's followers gather up the words
Their Master speaks, and there he bade us stay;
And then from out the treasure of the House
He brought the golden goblets chased of old
By Hiram's workmen (such as 'scaped the spoil
When Shishak plundered), crusted thick with gems,
Embossed and graven. Wine he brought, the best
That Eshcol's vineyards boast of, sweet and bright,
And, pouring, bade us drink. Yes, he, the seer,
The prophet of the Lord, stood forth to tempt,
As Satan tempts. To break the vows of God,
To do dishonour to our father's name,
To taste the cup those dying lips had cursed;—
To this he called us. Wondering eyes we turned,
All startled at the suddenness of change,
But yield we might not. No, nor prophet's voice,
Nor angel's message floating through the air,
Nor lengthened skill and subtlety of speech
Might bend us from our purpose. So we told
Our simple tale. “The oath of God was strong,
Stronger than all things else. Our souls were bound
To keep our father's hest. Stern need alone
Had driven us from our tents, but all the rest
We still obeyed.” “Oh, ask us not to taste,
Thou prophet of the Lord, lest we too fall
Beneath the curse.”
Was on him; not with common speech, or mien
Of wonted calmness, but in heat of soul,
With clear, fixed eye, and voice that whispered low,
As one on whom the hand of God weighs hard,
He spake his will, and bade me follow him
With all my father's house. Through gate and court
He led the way to where the eastern tower
Looks down on Kidron. There the chamber stands
Where Hanan's followers gather up the words
Their Master speaks, and there he bade us stay;
110
He brought the golden goblets chased of old
By Hiram's workmen (such as 'scaped the spoil
When Shishak plundered), crusted thick with gems,
Embossed and graven. Wine he brought, the best
That Eshcol's vineyards boast of, sweet and bright,
And, pouring, bade us drink. Yes, he, the seer,
The prophet of the Lord, stood forth to tempt,
As Satan tempts. To break the vows of God,
To do dishonour to our father's name,
To taste the cup those dying lips had cursed;—
To this he called us. Wondering eyes we turned,
All startled at the suddenness of change,
But yield we might not. No, nor prophet's voice,
Nor angel's message floating through the air,
Nor lengthened skill and subtlety of speech
Might bend us from our purpose. So we told
Our simple tale. “The oath of God was strong,
Stronger than all things else. Our souls were bound
To keep our father's hest. Stern need alone
Had driven us from our tents, but all the rest
We still obeyed.” “Oh, ask us not to taste,
Thou prophet of the Lord, lest we too fall
Beneath the curse.”
And then the mystery cleared;
Not luring us to sin, but trusting well
Our strong obedience, he would find in us
A pattern unto Israel. We had kept
Our father's word, but Judah had been false,
And Israel frail. In vain the Lord had sent
His prophets, rising early; and in vain
Had pleaded with His children. Therefore came
On us the blessing, and on them the doom:
For them a city captured, homes destroyed,
A life of exile; and for us the praise
Which God, not man, awards to faithful souls,
A name to live through all the age to come;
Yea, more than all, beyond our hope or dream,
The words went forth that met our heart's desire;—
“The son of Rechab shall not want a man
To stand before my face for evermore.”
As stand the sons of Aaron when, in robes
Of linen white and clean, they tread the courts,
Or wave the incense,—as the Levites stand,
Choir facing choir, and chant their hymns at night,
Through the still darkness breathing praise to God,
To cheer the watchman on his lonely round,
The soldier on his turret; so shall we
Dwell, night and day, within the holy house
Which God has called his own: our lips shall bring
Their daily offering, and our hands shall sweep
The strings of harp or psaltery. Pure and cleansed,
The chosen band of Nazarites shall own
Our tried endurance. In the months to come,
Or few, or many, we shall find our home,
As finds the swallow, in the courts of God.
Not luring us to sin, but trusting well
Our strong obedience, he would find in us
111
Our father's word, but Judah had been false,
And Israel frail. In vain the Lord had sent
His prophets, rising early; and in vain
Had pleaded with His children. Therefore came
On us the blessing, and on them the doom:
For them a city captured, homes destroyed,
A life of exile; and for us the praise
Which God, not man, awards to faithful souls,
A name to live through all the age to come;
Yea, more than all, beyond our hope or dream,
The words went forth that met our heart's desire;—
“The son of Rechab shall not want a man
To stand before my face for evermore.”
As stand the sons of Aaron when, in robes
Of linen white and clean, they tread the courts,
Or wave the incense,—as the Levites stand,
Choir facing choir, and chant their hymns at night,
Through the still darkness breathing praise to God,
To cheer the watchman on his lonely round,
The soldier on his turret; so shall we
Dwell, night and day, within the holy house
Which God has called his own: our lips shall bring
Their daily offering, and our hands shall sweep
The strings of harp or psaltery. Pure and cleansed,
The chosen band of Nazarites shall own
Our tried endurance. In the months to come,
112
As finds the swallow, in the courts of God.
And if the days are dark, and doom of woe
Hangs o'er us; if the dread Chaldæan scourge
Shall sweep the land and leave it desolate;
If cedar beams and carvèd roof shall burn,
And columns lie, all shattered, in the dust;
And golden vessels serve for idol-feasts,
And all the music of the choirs be hushed,
And groans and curses rend the startled air;—
If, exiles wandering on Euphrates' banks,
We hang our harps upon the pale, grey trees,
Whose weeping branches plash the wide, waste flood,
And, when they bid us, in their mirth and pride,
Sing at their feasts the chief of Zion's songs,
Make answer, “How in this strange land and drear
Can hallowed songs, the hymns of God, be ours?”
And then in speech they know not, breathe our soul,
Cursing, not blessing:—if all this shall come
On us and on our children, still our hearts
Shall live in hope. The word is sure and fixed
As are the everlasting hills of God,
And still the sons of Rechab shall not fail
To stand before the Lord; and still their feet
Shall tread His courts, their voices speak His praise.
And thou, O Prophet, Seer of Anathoth,
Shalt see, in vision, all thy word fulfilled;
And the old order, waxing dim, shall pass
Away before the new, and words of God
Written on fleshly tablets of the heart,
Shall win from all obedience, trust, and love.
So all thy woes shall end, thy restless grief
Shall rest at last, and near the throne of God
Thou still shalt stand, and for thy people pray,
Thy grey hairs crowned with glory; while, on earth,
The sons of Rechab treasure up thy words,
And live, expectant of the mightier time,
When He, the Lord our Righteousness, shall come,
And call His people from the East and West
To dwell for ever in the Eternal Light,
At rest within the Paradise of God.
Hangs o'er us; if the dread Chaldæan scourge
Shall sweep the land and leave it desolate;
If cedar beams and carvèd roof shall burn,
And columns lie, all shattered, in the dust;
And golden vessels serve for idol-feasts,
And all the music of the choirs be hushed,
And groans and curses rend the startled air;—
If, exiles wandering on Euphrates' banks,
We hang our harps upon the pale, grey trees,
Whose weeping branches plash the wide, waste flood,
And, when they bid us, in their mirth and pride,
Sing at their feasts the chief of Zion's songs,
Make answer, “How in this strange land and drear
Can hallowed songs, the hymns of God, be ours?”
And then in speech they know not, breathe our soul,
Cursing, not blessing:—if all this shall come
On us and on our children, still our hearts
Shall live in hope. The word is sure and fixed
As are the everlasting hills of God,
And still the sons of Rechab shall not fail
To stand before the Lord; and still their feet
Shall tread His courts, their voices speak His praise.
113
Shalt see, in vision, all thy word fulfilled;
And the old order, waxing dim, shall pass
Away before the new, and words of God
Written on fleshly tablets of the heart,
Shall win from all obedience, trust, and love.
So all thy woes shall end, thy restless grief
Shall rest at last, and near the throne of God
Thou still shalt stand, and for thy people pray,
Thy grey hairs crowned with glory; while, on earth,
The sons of Rechab treasure up thy words,
And live, expectant of the mightier time,
When He, the Lord our Righteousness, shall come,
And call His people from the East and West
To dwell for ever in the Eternal Light,
At rest within the Paradise of God.
September, 1864.
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