Poems By John Moultrie. New ed |
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THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT.
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8
THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT.
FROM THE EPISTLE.
I
As ministers of Christ, with high commissionEntrusted, his rich bounties to dispense,
And win, (if that may be,) from lost condition
To faith and hope, the slaves of sin and sense,—
As pledged to preach, or in or out of season,
His truth to ears which hearken or reject,—
To guide, console, rebuke, and mildly reason—
Of us account, and yield us due respect.
II
By us affused, the pure baptismal waterDoth to repentant souls rich gifts convey,
Sealing, to Heaven's adopted son or daughter,
Grace which shall wash the inborn sin away.
'Tis ours to dress the board, to crown the chalice,
With rich regalement of celestial food,—
From lips profane, deep stain'd with fraud or malice,
Withholding still Christ's body and his blood.
III
Respect our office,—but insist, meanwhile,That we should to our trust be faithful found;
Not marring truth with flatteries base and vile—
Not fearing to reprove where sins abound,—
As duty calls, the cross still meekly bearing,—
Ne'er shunning God's whole counsel to make known,—
Ourselves, our flocks, with equal zeal preparing
To meet the summons to His judgment throne.
9
FROM THE GOSPEL.
I
Fast bound in darksome prisonThe saintly Baptist lay,
While on the world had risen
Redemption's vernal day:
And many a wondrous story
To cheer his spirit came,
Of Christ's increasing glory,
And ever spreading fame.
II
Then spake he in his gladness—“Go forth, my brethren twain,
Who soothe my dungeon's sadness,
And glory in my chain—
Go ask this godlike seemer,
Of whom such things we hear,—
Art thou the true Redeemer,
Or must a third appear?”
III
Our Lord, in his deep kindness,When they this message brought,
On sickness, pain, and blindness,
His healing mercies wrought;
And while each dark disaster
Before him seem'd to flee,
“Go tell,” he said, “your master,
The things ye hear and see.
IV
“The lame their strength recover,The lepers lose their stain,
10
The deaf can hear again;
From Heaven hath light descended
To men of low degree;—
Whoso is not offended,
The same is blest in me.”
V
So spake our great Redeemer,—So let our hearts reply!
For who so blind a dreamer,
So dull of heart and eye,
As not to see around him,
As not to feel within,
That Satan's chain hath bound him—
That Christ hath conquer'd sin?—
VI
We ask not signs and wonders—We go not forth to find
Rocks split by volleying thunders,
Reeds shaken by the wind.
By peace in Earth and Heaven,
By blissful hearth and home,
By all His grace hath given—
We know that Christ hath come.
| Poems | |