Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Angelic tongues would be too weak,
Angelic hearts too cold,
The wonders of God's love to speak,
So deep and manifold.
Heaven's principalities and powers
Are gazing on this world of ours,
His counsel to behold,
Which, since creation's morn, hath been
Unfolding on this mortal scene.

II

The strife in which we here engage
With Hell's rebellious host,
The warfare which the Church doth wage,
Hath Heaven's whole heart engross'd:
E'en as the news of foes' descent,
In fierce invading armament,
On some far island coast,
With one intense, tumultuous thrill
May rouse an empire's heart and will.

III

We know not but each brave repulse
Which foils the Tempter here,

Forbids his legions to convulse
Full many a brighter sphere.
But this we know—that since, on Earth,
Sin's foul and monstrous womb gave birth
To grief, and pain, and fear,
The wisdom and deep love of Heaven
Against hell's noxious brood have striven.

IV

At first, in dark mysterious guise,
That wisdom lay conceal'd;
Obscurely to prophetic eyes
As in a glass reveal'd.
But now the veil of Hebrew lore
Can dim its glorious light no more;
And Abraham's race must yield
The rights, which theirs no more may be,
To all Earth's countless progeny.

V

And, day and night, o'er land and sea,
Is spreading, far and fast,
The knowledge of Christ's mystery,
Close hid in ages past.
And who are they who tell the tale?
Who, heaven-commission'd, rend the veil
O'er all the nations cast?
And cause the light of truth divine
On man's sin-darken'd soul to shine?

VI

Not seraphs, as ye well might deem,
With souls and tongues of flame;
Whose utterance yet too weak would seem
That mystery to proclaim:
Not prophets from the grave arisen,
To groan once more in fleshly prison;
Not saints, who overcame,

Through Jesus' blood, the infernal powers
Which yet besiege these hearts of ours.

VII

Ah! no!—the messengers of peace
Themselves are sinners still;
Who scarce, e'en yet, have found release
For weary heart and will.
Fast bound in Satan's devilish thrall,
Christ's love aroused them, one and all,
And sent them forth to fill
His marriage-feast with guests, and tell
Of his rich love, unsearchable.

VIII

The words they speak are faint and few,
And scarce, at times, find vent;
Yet can the strongest hearts subdue,
With might omnipotent.
For from the spirit's depths they start,
And wing their way from heart to heart,
As though the speaker meant,
In that deep utterance, to reveal
A love he cannot choose but feel.

IX

And through that love, sent down from Heaven
To dwell in hearts new-born,
Shall sin at last from Earth be driven,
And Death of terror shorn.
The weapons of our warfare here
Are faith, and hope, and holy fear;
—Let these our souls adorn;
And Earth shall soon, like Heaven, confess
Christ's reign of peace and righteousness.

FROM THE GOSPEL.

I

Fair Star! whose orient beauty,
In patient love and duty,
Thro' many a sultry clime the pilgrim-sages led;
Whose beams, serene and tender,
First stay'd their waning splendour
Above the lowly stable where our Lord had laid his head;—

II

Bright, tranquil child of morning!
Who gav'st the earliest warning
Of that more glorious Sun, e'en then about to rise;—
From light's eternal fountains,
O'er Earth's remotest mountains,
First heralding the blaze of day, which soon should fill the skies!

III

What wast thou, wandering planet?
—Thy course,—O! whence began it?
In what dim, distant tract of unimagined space
Did thy Creator form thee?
Did first the sunbeams warm thee?
Did Nature's law project thee on thy swift and ceaseless race?

IV

Ah! sure, no glimmering meteor
Wast thou—Earth's noxious creature,
From dank, unwholesome dews and fetid vapours bred;
No comet fiercely glaring,
Men's hearts for war preparing,
And shaking, from its horrid hair, hate, pestilence, and dread.

V

Faith's eye alone could view thee—
Faith's foot alone pursue thee—
So thou didst safely guide those pilgrims on their way;
While yet thou wouldst not render
One glimpse of faintest splendour
To light stern Herod's ruffian bands to seize their infant prey.

VI

Perchance some new creation,
By sudden revelation
Wast thou, to mortal eyes, then first made manifest;
Some home of souls departed,
The holy, humble-hearted,
For ever floating blissfully,—an island of the blest!

VII

And when thy task was over,
Thy beauty thou didst cover
With azure folds of sky, and, hid from mortal eyes,
O'er ether's boundless ocean
Resume thy destined motion
Through space where other systems roll, and other suns arise.

VIII

Ah! wherefore thus forsake us?
When pain and grief o'ertake us,
Why not, from time to time, thy cheering light unveil?
On many a night of sorrow
Presaging glad to-morrow
To hearts that faint beneath their load, and eyes that, weeping, fail?

IX

Where lonely saints are kneeling,
From godless eyes concealing

The weight which this world's sin doth on their spirits lay—
Where, in prophetic study,
Until the east grows ruddy,
All night pale scholars wake and watch for Christ's long promised day—

X

Where ships, in endless motion,
Plough through the plains of ocean,
The messengers of peace to heathen lands to bear—
Where, English homes forsaking,
Brave hearts are slowly waking,
In savage haunts and gloomy wilds, the voice of Christian prayer—

XI

Where Heaven's elect assemble—
Where sinful spirits tremble—
Where first the stricken soul finds strength and voice to pray—
Where, round some widow'd father,
Half orphan'd children gather
Beside their sainted mother's grave—O why withhold thy ray?

XII

For what more blessed token
To hearts, by sorrow broken,
Of pardon seal'd in heaven and future rest could be?
What surer sign could find us,
In trouble to remind us
Of Christ's protecting light and love—than that reveal'd in thee?

XIII

Soul!—soul!—forbear such questions,—
Poor fancy's wild suggestions,—
Vain longings of the sense to feed its carnal eye;
What boots it that Man's spirit
Faith's treasures doth inherit,
If yet it cleaves so fondly to its old idolatry?

XIV

No blaze of sensual glory,
Intense but transitory,
Could the heart's craving thirst for purer light allay;
Even thine, fair star, returning,
Would but increase our yearning,
Which nought on earth could satisfy, for Heaven's unclouded day.

XV

Yet fond imagination,
By many a bright creation,
With shadowy types of Heaven can people Earth's domain;
Still shaping and combining,
From all things sweet and shining,
Memorials of immortal love to soothe our mortal pain.

XVI

The rainbow, in its splendour,
To hearts devout and tender
Still yields a glorious pledge of deepest sin forgiven;
The dawn's outbreaking whiteness,
The sunset's fading brightness,
Shed gleams of glory on the earth as from our homes in Heaven.

XVII

And when morn's star ascending,
Its pearly light is blending
With the pale, silver tints of the still sunless sky,
May fancy's eye discover
Thine orb, blest star, above her,
Bright as when first it usher'd in the day-spring from on high.

XVIII

Thus air, and earth, and ocean,
To hearts of calm devotion,

Rich founts of cheering thought and holy comfort prove;
All things are theirs for ever,
Nor life nor death shall sever
Their faith and patience here below from Christ's eternal love.