Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Through Heaven's bright depths profound
Float waves of golden sound—
Voices of mingled love, and joy and wonder;
Like harps that smite the ear,
'Midst waters murmuring near,
And the deep rolling of the distant thunder.
Seraphs and saints are chaunting some new song,
Which, round Jehovah's throne, Heaven's echoing vaults prolong.

II

On Zion's topmost brow
Bright hosts are gathering now—
Twelve times twelve thousand, each a sceptred saint!
Each bears his Father's name
In lines of dazzling flame,
Writ on his forehead;—yet that blaze grows faint
Beneath the o'erpowering glory of the Lamb
Throned in the midst—the One—the infinite I AM.

III

And hark! with one accord,
To greet Heaven's sovereign Lord,
That countless host its mighty voice doth raise;
A loud and thrilling song
Peals through the immortal throng—
A song of holy love, and joy and praise:
A song which none may learn but such as be
Enroll'd among that bright and blessed company.

IV

Those blissful sounds to hear,
Heaven stoops its charmed ear,—
Angels themselves their choral songs suspending;
While blessed souls that sleep
In peace serene and deep,
Feel the wild music with their visions blending.
But even angelic voices are too dull
To imitate those strains—so wild and wonderful.

V

Ye crowned heads that wait
In calm and saintly state,
(White-vested elders) round the eternal throne;
Declare, if that ye may,
What glorious hosts are they,
From whose bright lips these wond'rous sounds have flown?
Why can none learn the words of that strange song,
Nor chaunt the heavenly notes which waft those words along?

VI

“Earth's holiest sons are these,
Who (so their Lord to please)
Refrain'd on earth from joys of earthly love;
By woman undefiled,
Each like a sinless child
Follow'd his Master to his rest above;
Nor e'er did passion's sensual paths pursue,
Nor e'er the wanton joys of amorous dalliance knew.

VII

“These calm'd, with stedfast will,
Desire's intemperate thrill,
E'en in the May of their impetuous blood;
Nor let vain Fancy's play

Their senses steal away;
Nor sank beneath the might of womanhood:
But firmly put Earth's baser love aside,
So best to live to Him for them on Earth who died.

VIII

“No feverish hopes and fears
Disturb'd their prime of years,
Nor from their heart's serene devotion drave;
Nor foul suspicion's breath,
Nor passion, strong as death,
Nor jealousy, more cruel than the grave,
Marr'd the composure of their tranquil mind,
Nor could their eagle wings of heavenly musing bind.

IX

“Nor knew they the turmoil
Of household cares or toil,
For wife and children daily bread to win;
Nor love's capricious wiles
And shifting frowns and smiles,
Once snared them into act or thought of sin,
While, with fond zeal, to please a wife they strove,
Neglecting His high cause who claim'd their hearts above.

X

“Therefore, with perfect will,
They served their Master still,
Nor e'er, on Earth, forgot their heavenly prize;
Through clouds of trouble dim,
By faith, discerning Him
Whom yet they saw not with their fleshly eyes:
For his dear sake Earth's fiercest hate defied,—
Lived but to work his will, and for his glory died.

XI

“Now all their toils are o'er,
And sense and lust no more

Disturb or sadden their serene repose;
But, with Heaven's glories crown'd,
They near the Lamb are found,
And track his footsteps wheresoe'er he goes;
Still in his wake, with rapturous flight, ascending,
Through worlds of dazzling light and bliss that knows no ending.

XII

“And that blest song, they sing,
With which Heaven's chambers ring,
As with the fabled music of the spheres,
Breathes no dull tone of earth—
No thought that e'er had birth
In the gross world of carnal hopes and fears:
But hymns the passion of a virgin love,
Which such alone conceive even in these realms above.”

XIII

Ah! woe!—must only they,—
(White-vested elders say,)
Must only they their Lord's pure joy partake?
And we, who toil below
Through mortal grief and woe,
Bearing the cross for his beloved sake—
Must we ne'er learn the wonders of that strain,
For that we wore, on earth, soft wedlock's easy chain?

XIV

And that, around our hearth,
The laugh of childhood's mirth
And matron voices of meek rule were heard;
And that the nuptial bed
Was in our chambers spread,
And that our hearts were innocently stirr'd
By woman's gentle words and cheering smile;
And that her tender love did all our cares beguile?

XV

Is it our sin, that we,
In gentlest sympathy,
Thro' life's dark paths each other cheer'd along,
And felt the bitter dearth
Of children snatch'd from Earth,
To join their voices to that choral song?
Can chastest love our path so foully mar,
As e'en Heaven's brightest courts against our souls to bar?

XVI

“O base and foolish plaints!”—
(Thus those white-vested saints
With dreamlike voice upbraidingly reply;)
“O murmurs base and vain,
Which Heaven's high will arraign!
And sinful hearts which with the sinless vie!
Low, sensual spirits, which would take your fill
Of Earth's most luscious joys, yet reign with martyrs still!

XVII

“Is't not enough that ye
Have power on earth to be
Emblems and types of Christ's eternal love;
Fond husband and chaste wife,
In pure connubial life,
The Church pourtraying and her spouse above?
Is't not enough to know that you shall share
In heaven the fullest bliss that blessed souls can bear?

XVIII

“Your own hard task fulfil,
And meekly do God's will,
Cheer'd by the comforts which his love hath given;
It may be that the hours
Here spent in wedlock's bowers,
Shall shed rich fragrance o'er your homes in heaven;

And love's bright flowers, which bloom so feebly here,
Burst into full-blown bliss in Heaven's congenial sphere.

XIX

“So let each soul possess,
In faith and holiness,
Its proper gift of God—and still let all,
With reverence due, give place
To those whom ampler grace
Doth to sublimer self-denial call;
Who, self-subdued, best purge from earthly leaven
Those founts of holy thought which fit the soul for Heaven.”

FROM THE GOSPEL.

I

“Through the desert wild and dreary,
Following tracks explored by few,
Sad at heart, and worn and weary,
We our toilsome march pursue.
O'er our heads, with blaze unclouded,
Burns the fierce and fiery noon;
Pestilence, in darkness shrouded,
Near us walks beneath the moon.

II

“O'er the steep and pathless mountain
Oft with bleeding feet we climb;
Scarce to taste the desert fountain
Human hate allows us time.
Israel's homes lie far behind us,
Yet we pause not to look back,
Lest the keen pursuer find us,
Lest grim murder scent our track.

III

“Eagles o'er our heads are wheeling,
Each careering towards her nest;
E'en the wolf and fox are stealing
To the covert of their rest;
Every foul and noxious creature
Finds on earth its lair and bed;—
But the infant Lord of Nature
Hath not where to lay his head.

IV

“Yet, my babe, sweet sleep enfolds thee
On thy fainting mother's arm;
God, in his great love, beholds thee,
Angels guard thy rest from harm;
Earth and hell in vain beset thee,
Kings against thy life conspire;
But our God can ne'er forget thee,
Nor His arm, that shields thee, tire.

V

“Where is now our peaceful dwelling?
—Wrapt perchance in vengeful flame;
Ruffian voices round it yelling,
Curses on thy gentle name.
Woe to Bethlehem's matrons, keeping
Tenderest watch above their dead!
Rachel, for her children weeping,
Knows not to be comforted.

VI

“Woe to them!—and yet their anguish
Fades before what mine must be;
Doom'd to see my lov'd one languish
Through this life's long misery.
Doom'd to see Earth's hate expended
On his meek and lowly head,

Till his weary task is ended—
Till his sinless blood is shed.

VII

“Heavenly hope shall soothe their sorrow,
When the grass begins to wave,
After many a dreary morrow,
Freshly o'er each infant grave.
I alone, to rest a stranger,
Must behold, with aching eye,
O'er my child distress and danger
Gathering still incessantly.

VIII

“But forbear, my sinful spirit,
Of thy chastening to complain;
Gladly let me here inherit
Toil and sorrow, care and pain!
Welcome Earth's most dread vexations!
Welcome anguish and distress!
Since my name all generations
For a Saviour's love shall bless!”