 | Poems by Two Brothers |  |
109
THE DEITY
“Immutable—immortal—infinite!”
Milton.
Where is the wonderful abode,
The holy, secret, searchless shrine,
Where dwells the immaterial God,
The all-pervading and benign?
The holy, secret, searchless shrine,
Where dwells the immaterial God,
The all-pervading and benign?
O! that he were reveal'd to me,
Fully and palpably display'd
In all the awful majesty
Of heaven's consummate pomp array'd—
Fully and palpably display'd
In all the awful majesty
Of heaven's consummate pomp array'd—
How would the overwhelming light
Of his tremendous presence beam!
And how insufferably bright
Would the broad glow of glory stream!
Of his tremendous presence beam!
And how insufferably bright
Would the broad glow of glory stream!
110
What tho' this flesh would fade like grass,
Before th' intensity of day?
One glance at Him who always was,
The fiercest pangs would well repay.
Before th' intensity of day?
One glance at Him who always was,
The fiercest pangs would well repay.
When Moses on the mountain's brow
Had met th' Eternal face to face,
While anxious Israel stood below,
Wond'ring and trembling at its base;
Had met th' Eternal face to face,
While anxious Israel stood below,
Wond'ring and trembling at its base;
His visage, as he downward trod,
Shone starlike on the shrinking crowd,
With lustre borrow'd from his God:
They could not brook it, and they bow'd.
Shone starlike on the shrinking crowd,
With lustre borrow'd from his God:
They could not brook it, and they bow'd.
The mere reflection of the blaze
That lighten'd round creation's Lord,
Was too puissant for their gaze;
And he that caught it was ador'd.
That lighten'd round creation's Lord,
Was too puissant for their gaze;
And he that caught it was ador'd.
Then how ineffably august,
How passing wond'rous must He be,
Whose presence lent to earthly dust
Such permanence of brilliancy!
How passing wond'rous must He be,
Whose presence lent to earthly dust
Such permanence of brilliancy!
111
Thron'd in sequester'd sanctity,
And with transcendant glories crown'd;
With all his works beneath his eye,
And suns and systems burning round,—
And with transcendant glories crown'd;
With all his works beneath his eye,
And suns and systems burning round,—
How shall I hymn him? How aspire
His holy Name with song to blend,
And bid my rash and feeble lyre
To such an awless flight ascend?
His holy Name with song to blend,
And bid my rash and feeble lyre
To such an awless flight ascend?
A. T. or C. T.
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