The Baptistery, or the way of eternal life By the author of "The Cathedral." [i.e. Isaac Williams] A new edition |
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| 8. | IMAGE THE EIGHTH. Angels bearing Crosses. |
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 | The Baptistery, or the way of eternal life |  |
79
IMAGE THE EIGHTH. Angels bearing Crosses.
The Sun was going down upon the sea,
And through th' autumnal trees was nearer seen,
Blending them in the golden blazonry
Of his full-glowing orb,—the trees between,
Far in the wood, in a small glade of green,
A mouldering chapel; and a pensive wight,
Come lately thence, was gazing on the scene
On a green turf hard by, as if the sight
Was blending with his thoughts which caught the evening light.
And through th' autumnal trees was nearer seen,
Blending them in the golden blazonry
Of his full-glowing orb,—the trees between,
Far in the wood, in a small glade of green,
A mouldering chapel; and a pensive wight,
Come lately thence, was gazing on the scene
On a green turf hard by, as if the sight
Was blending with his thoughts which caught the evening light.
“Nothing have I on earth that I desire
Of all that I have seen, or known, or lov'd;
I would within me keep Heaven's smould'ring fire,
And mortify the hopes that earthward rov'd,
For they have to my eyes but shadows prov'd;
But beck'ning onward with Angelic sign,
A beauteous vision hath for ever mov'd,
Still as I gaze puts on a face divine:
I stretch my hands in vain, and still in vain I pine.”
Of all that I have seen, or known, or lov'd;
I would within me keep Heaven's smould'ring fire,
And mortify the hopes that earthward rov'd,
For they have to my eyes but shadows prov'd;
But beck'ning onward with Angelic sign,
A beauteous vision hath for ever mov'd,
Still as I gaze puts on a face divine:
I stretch my hands in vain, and still in vain I pine.”
80
Thus to himself he mused, while slumbers crept
Upon his eyes, and thoughts, and solemn brow,
Fix'd in that pensive silence; as he slept
'Mid those bright clouds an Angel dropp'd below,
And he th' approaching presence seem'd to know,
Mingling his vision with celestial dyes,
While through his frame extatic fervours glow,
Caught in the sudden in love's sweet surprise,
'Mid fancies wild that late had fill'd his awe-struck eyes.
Upon his eyes, and thoughts, and solemn brow,
Fix'd in that pensive silence; as he slept
'Mid those bright clouds an Angel dropp'd below,
And he th' approaching presence seem'd to know,
Mingling his vision with celestial dyes,
While through his frame extatic fervours glow,
Caught in the sudden in love's sweet surprise,
'Mid fancies wild that late had fill'd his awe-struck eyes.
In tuneful accents of Angelic love,
The ministering Spirit seem'd to say,
“Long have I o'er thee watch'd, and with thee strove,
Sent down full oft from courts of endless day
To turn aside from thy predestin'd way,
And bid the phantoms for a while be gone
Which thy too eager steps had led astray;
Then griev'd to see thy sad and alter'd tone,
For know that man on earth can never grieve alone.”
The ministering Spirit seem'd to say,
“Long have I o'er thee watch'd, and with thee strove,
Sent down full oft from courts of endless day
To turn aside from thy predestin'd way,
And bid the phantoms for a while be gone
Which thy too eager steps had led astray;
Then griev'd to see thy sad and alter'd tone,
For know that man on earth can never grieve alone.”
“And art thou then thyself all that I prize?
Let me behold thee,” sad Antonio cried;
“Alas! we are withdrawn from mortal eyes,”—
Replied the Spirit, as a darker glow
Came round him,—“lest if thou shouldst haply know
Things that are born in Heaven, the worship due
To God alone thou shouldst on them bestow:
How do ye now each painted form pursue,
Catch at the idle shade, and then the vision rue?”
Let me behold thee,” sad Antonio cried;
“Alas! we are withdrawn from mortal eyes,”—
Replied the Spirit, as a darker glow
Came round him,—“lest if thou shouldst haply know
Things that are born in Heaven, the worship due
To God alone thou shouldst on them bestow:
How do ye now each painted form pursue,
Catch at the idle shade, and then the vision rue?”
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“Yet I to things of earth,” Antonio cried,
“Have deem'd me wean'd; fed with Angelic food
Of abstinence, till lust and worldly pride
Were in me buried; and my thoughts have glow'd,
As if their earthly nature were imbued
With fairer lights from Heaven; till there doth break
That beauteous vision on my solitude;
Again the yearnings of my spirit wake,
A thirst within my soul which I in vain would slake.”—
“Have deem'd me wean'd; fed with Angelic food
Of abstinence, till lust and worldly pride
Were in me buried; and my thoughts have glow'd,
As if their earthly nature were imbued
With fairer lights from Heaven; till there doth break
That beauteous vision on my solitude;
Again the yearnings of my spirit wake,
A thirst within my soul which I in vain would slake.”—
“Nor ever canst on earth,” replied the Voice
Celestial: “Unto some meek souls is given
To have the things they love, and to rejoice;
Such as therein forget not things of Heaven,
As using not abusing; there hath striven
With thee a stronger spirit, keener bent,
On ends propos'd; as, when on skies of even
Thine eyes and all thy longings late were bent,
The image of lost good woke in thine heart unspent.”
Celestial: “Unto some meek souls is given
To have the things they love, and to rejoice;
Such as therein forget not things of Heaven,
As using not abusing; there hath striven
With thee a stronger spirit, keener bent,
On ends propos'd; as, when on skies of even
Thine eyes and all thy longings late were bent,
The image of lost good woke in thine heart unspent.”
“Yet in the things of Heaven, and hallow'd shrine,
Where God is ever near when truly sought,
I thought to drink of freshness, and recline
On holier hopes into the bosom brought.
Beauty and Love have in me deeply wrought,
When I beheld His works, the deep ravine
And cataract; in them ennobling thought
Found language, from the Spirit's caves unseen
Answer'd an echoing Voice to the o'erwhelming scene,
Where God is ever near when truly sought,
I thought to drink of freshness, and recline
On holier hopes into the bosom brought.
Beauty and Love have in me deeply wrought,
When I beheld His works, the deep ravine
And cataract; in them ennobling thought
Found language, from the Spirit's caves unseen
Answer'd an echoing Voice to the o'erwhelming scene,
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“And deep call'd unto deep: for in the sea
And everlasting mountains seem to stalk
The shadows of the Infinite; and we,
When low-brow'd cares our mighty yearnings balk,
With th' unimagin'd mountains turn to talk
As to our brotherhood; in their reproof
To the vast Heavens, where the Moon seems to walk
Amid our homes, and o'er the azure roof
Night's multitudinous stars march forth and range aloof.
And everlasting mountains seem to stalk
The shadows of the Infinite; and we,
When low-brow'd cares our mighty yearnings balk,
With th' unimagin'd mountains turn to talk
As to our brotherhood; in their reproof
To the vast Heavens, where the Moon seems to walk
Amid our homes, and o'er the azure roof
Night's multitudinous stars march forth and range aloof.
“For thus the ever-yearning soul finds vent,
In that she reads in stars, sea, sky, and night,
The Infinite and the Omnipotent,
Her only home and haven. And from sight
Of Nature's face withdrawn, and the deep light
Of her blue eyes, then access hath been given
To pillar'd shades, whose high o'erarching might
In its expanse would imitate the Heaven,
And in its pictur'd panes the varying skies of even,
In that she reads in stars, sea, sky, and night,
The Infinite and the Omnipotent,
Her only home and haven. And from sight
Of Nature's face withdrawn, and the deep light
Of her blue eyes, then access hath been given
To pillar'd shades, whose high o'erarching might
In its expanse would imitate the Heaven,
And in its pictur'd panes the varying skies of even,
“Through which the Moon looks softly. High o'erwrought
In arch'd magnificence and glorious ease,
They body forth the Heaven aspiring thought
In stony imitation, like the trees
Of some deep avenue; and on all these,
Hallow'd by adoration, would I gaze,
Till uninspirèd beauty fail'd to please;
And then I turn'd to where the spirit's rays
Light up the living face, and fond expression plays,—
In arch'd magnificence and glorious ease,
They body forth the Heaven aspiring thought
In stony imitation, like the trees
Of some deep avenue; and on all these,
Hallow'd by adoration, would I gaze,
Till uninspirèd beauty fail'd to please;
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Light up the living face, and fond expression plays,—
“On some lov'd countenance; for gentle love
Is all we know of Heaven, and far and near
We rove our prison-house, in vain to prove
Fit resting-place, if aught of Heaven be here.”
“See,” whisper'd low that Spirit, “through yon drear
And narrow cave, which leads to open day,
A Form that hath no comeliness; while Fear
Waits on Him! take thou heed, nor miss the way,
Catching at rays that break through your dim house of clay.
Is all we know of Heaven, and far and near
We rove our prison-house, in vain to prove
Fit resting-place, if aught of Heaven be here.”
“See,” whisper'd low that Spirit, “through yon drear
And narrow cave, which leads to open day,
A Form that hath no comeliness; while Fear
Waits on Him! take thou heed, nor miss the way,
Catching at rays that break through your dim house of clay.
“Amid things mightier far, both day and night,
Thou movest,” louder spake th' Angelic sound;
“See the blind man, whom Nature shuts from light,
He walks the earth unmov'd, 'mid the profound
Of multitudinous mountains, and the bound
Of the great sea coasting unnumber'd bays,
And 'neath the cloud-hung Blue o'erarching round,
Where the pale Moon glides soft on pathless ways,
Or Night's domain is lit with many-twinkling rays.
Thou movest,” louder spake th' Angelic sound;
“See the blind man, whom Nature shuts from light,
He walks the earth unmov'd, 'mid the profound
Of multitudinous mountains, and the bound
Of the great sea coasting unnumber'd bays,
And 'neath the cloud-hung Blue o'erarching round,
Where the pale Moon glides soft on pathless ways,
Or Night's domain is lit with many-twinkling rays.
“He walks unmov'd;—nor e'er his glowing thought
One step in Nature's kingdom can advance,
Her pictur'd scenes are ne'er within him wrought
With rays that change the scene, and like the glance
Upon the music-speaking countenance
Break forth on Nature's face: in this thy cell
Thus walk'st thou, hedg'd around in earthly trance,
Nor canst thou know the things invisible,
Which with thee and around in light and darkness dwell.
One step in Nature's kingdom can advance,
Her pictur'd scenes are ne'er within him wrought
84
Upon the music-speaking countenance
Break forth on Nature's face: in this thy cell
Thus walk'st thou, hedg'd around in earthly trance,
Nor canst thou know the things invisible,
Which with thee and around in light and darkness dwell.
“Ye live within a temple rising round,
Whose noiseless fabric all ethereal springs
On Heaven's elastic pillars from the ground,
Fill'd with bright Beings and with holy things;
Which more defies your faint imaginings,
Than sculptur'd heights he cannot see or feel
Defy the blind man's feeble shadowings;
Ah, could one glance your earthly house reveal!
Ye stand alone unmov'd where countless Angels kneel.
Whose noiseless fabric all ethereal springs
On Heaven's elastic pillars from the ground,
Fill'd with bright Beings and with holy things;
Which more defies your faint imaginings,
Than sculptur'd heights he cannot see or feel
Defy the blind man's feeble shadowings;
Ah, could one glance your earthly house reveal!
Ye stand alone unmov'd where countless Angels kneel.
“When closest leagued by human charities,
Affection her home-circle draws around,
And Love would imitate the happier skies,
Speaking in countenance and tuneful sound
Of love-endearing voice, new ever found
In friend or children sweet; in deeper love
The friends that are unseen with you abound,
On golden embassies sent from above,
In harmonies of Heaven they all around you move,—
Affection her home-circle draws around,
And Love would imitate the happier skies,
Speaking in countenance and tuneful sound
Of love-endearing voice, new ever found
In friend or children sweet; in deeper love
The friends that are unseen with you abound,
On golden embassies sent from above,
In harmonies of Heaven they all around you move,—
“But mostly in your fancied solitude,
And poverty and grief; for things of men,
And all that doth allure to sensual good,
Thicken the scale that dims the visual ken;—
Therefore the lonely ruin, tower, and glen,
Ye people with unseen societies,
Truth on your spirits breaks, and therefore then
Ye feel them nearer, as to longing eyes
Music brings back the world that deep in memory lies.
And poverty and grief; for things of men,
And all that doth allure to sensual good,
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Therefore the lonely ruin, tower, and glen,
Ye people with unseen societies,
Truth on your spirits breaks, and therefore then
Ye feel them nearer, as to longing eyes
Music brings back the world that deep in memory lies.
“Therefore we nearer draw in curtain'd sleep,
For then ye are remov'd from outer sight,
And are brought nearer Heaven, and realms more deep
Than waking thought divines. When the dark night
Surrounds you, or when gloomy woes alight
Upon your path, oft in that cloud we move;
Yea oft when ills your sinking souls affright,
They are but visitings of Heavenly love,—
The moon and stars appear when Darkness round doth rove.
For then ye are remov'd from outer sight,
And are brought nearer Heaven, and realms more deep
Than waking thought divines. When the dark night
Surrounds you, or when gloomy woes alight
Upon your path, oft in that cloud we move;
Yea oft when ills your sinking souls affright,
They are but visitings of Heavenly love,—
The moon and stars appear when Darkness round doth rove.
“That thou mayst pray for them thy foes are given,
That thou mayst look to God I bring thee pain,
I bring thee cares that thou mayst look to Heaven,
I bring thee fretful friends that thou mayst train
Thy soul to patience; what thou deemest gain,
When closest wreathing chains around thy soul,
I rend from thine own bleeding heart in twain,
That He who bought may have thy spirit whole:
Spurs that may give thee pain, but urge thee to the goal.”
That thou mayst look to God I bring thee pain,
I bring thee cares that thou mayst look to Heaven,
I bring thee fretful friends that thou mayst train
Thy soul to patience; what thou deemest gain,
When closest wreathing chains around thy soul,
I rend from thine own bleeding heart in twain,
That He who bought may have thy spirit whole:
Spurs that may give thee pain, but urge thee to the goal.”
86
Then he disclos'd, as in a vision wild,
A road to Heaven, where unto each was given
To bear his cross by love of Christ beguil'd—
Angels that carried them 'mid clouds of even—
And Love that weigh'd the cross of each in Heaven—
And they that parted from that holy load
Into self-chosen paths by Passion driven,
Laden more heavily on the false road,
Stray'd amid tangled paths and miss'd their last abode.
A road to Heaven, where unto each was given
To bear his cross by love of Christ beguil'd—
Angels that carried them 'mid clouds of even—
And Love that weigh'd the cross of each in Heaven—
And they that parted from that holy load
Into self-chosen paths by Passion driven,
Laden more heavily on the false road,
Stray'd amid tangled paths and miss'd their last abode.
The cross Antonio seiz'd, and gazing cried,
“This to my breast I clasp, and ask no more,
Nor ever from my spirit lay aside:
This is the richest gift Heaven hath in store
For exil'd man, beyond where spirits soar
Weigh'd out in scales of boundless charity,
And brought by Angels through the Heavenly door;—
Then let me seize the cross, and follow Thee,
My Master and my God,—no more I wish to see!
“This to my breast I clasp, and ask no more,
Nor ever from my spirit lay aside:
This is the richest gift Heaven hath in store
For exil'd man, beyond where spirits soar
Weigh'd out in scales of boundless charity,
And brought by Angels through the Heavenly door;—
Then let me seize the cross, and follow Thee,
My Master and my God,—no more I wish to see!
“If only step by step, a pilgrim blind,
I may but follow Thee, nor rove in vain
'Mid those enticing ways which endless wind;
If so I may at length that path attain,
Wherein Thy Saints with Thee the Cross sustain
Along the road to Heaven; yea, now I learn
That wisdom which doth make each step of pain
A step to Heaven; we need not now discern,
But bear the Cross, and that shall to a sceptre turn.
I may but follow Thee, nor rove in vain
'Mid those enticing ways which endless wind;
If so I may at length that path attain,
Wherein Thy Saints with Thee the Cross sustain
Along the road to Heaven; yea, now I learn
That wisdom which doth make each step of pain
A step to Heaven; we need not now discern,
But bear the Cross, and that shall to a sceptre turn.
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“Now I behold how worldly gain is loss,—
That weeks and days and hours that by us fleet,
Must bear the Royal impress of the Cross:
As sounds discordant blend in music sweet,
And warring elements for union meet,
Thus tempers rude, and elements of strife,
And roughest chances on our path that beat,
Divinest Love hath found with music rife,
Moulding th' harmonious soul meet for immortal life.
That weeks and days and hours that by us fleet,
Must bear the Royal impress of the Cross:
As sounds discordant blend in music sweet,
And warring elements for union meet,
Thus tempers rude, and elements of strife,
And roughest chances on our path that beat,
Divinest Love hath found with music rife,
Moulding th' harmonious soul meet for immortal life.
“That I may pray for them let foes be given,
That I may look to God let me have pain,
And bring me cares that I may look to Heaven;
And bring me fretful friends that I may train
My soul to patience; what I deem my gain,
When closest wreathing chains around my soul,
Take from me, though it rend my heart in twain,
That He who bought may have my spirit whole:—
Spurs that may give me pain, but urge me to the goal.
That I may look to God let me have pain,
And bring me cares that I may look to Heaven;
And bring me fretful friends that I may train
My soul to patience; what I deem my gain,
When closest wreathing chains around my soul,
Take from me, though it rend my heart in twain,
That He who bought may have my spirit whole:—
Spurs that may give me pain, but urge me to the goal.
“Like one who on a rock with outstretch'd arms
Hangs, struggling there his footing to retain,
While each returning wave with new alarms
Threatens to bear him to the angry main,
So to the Cross I cling, (O blissful pain!)
Well-nigh o'erwhelm'd with the loud-roaring tide,
Which to the world would bear me back again,
Labouring to seize with jaws devouring wide,—
Oh, may I for a while beneath Thy shade abide!
Hangs, struggling there his footing to retain,
While each returning wave with new alarms
Threatens to bear him to the angry main,
So to the Cross I cling, (O blissful pain!)
Well-nigh o'erwhelm'd with the loud-roaring tide,
Which to the world would bear me back again,
Labouring to seize with jaws devouring wide,—
Oh, may I for a while beneath Thy shade abide!
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“Nay, let me cling to Thee, and o'er the sea
Thou shalt sustain me to the stable shore;
Life-bearing wood of the all-saving Tree;
And lift o'er wat'ry mountains rising hoar!
Hail, little plank, set forth to bear me o'er,
While Faith like some good Angel holds the helm,
Though dark and drear the Heavens, and billows roar,
The stars come forth to people all the sky,
And rule my course, while Faith her saving bark shall ply.
Thou shalt sustain me to the stable shore;
Life-bearing wood of the all-saving Tree;
And lift o'er wat'ry mountains rising hoar!
Hail, little plank, set forth to bear me o'er,
While Faith like some good Angel holds the helm,
Though dark and drear the Heavens, and billows roar,
The stars come forth to people all the sky,
And rule my course, while Faith her saving bark shall ply.
“And I with you that throng th' aerial plain,
And seem to view us from your calm abode,
Would hold companionship. Ye there attain
Your blissful stations; on your earthly road
We see you bearing each his destin'd load,
Like that Cyrenian on the hallow'd hill,
Following the path the Man of Sorrows trode;
None in that band without his share of ill,
Walking their Heavenward road in solemn silence still.
And seem to view us from your calm abode,
Would hold companionship. Ye there attain
Your blissful stations; on your earthly road
We see you bearing each his destin'd load,
Like that Cyrenian on the hallow'd hill,
Following the path the Man of Sorrows trode;
None in that band without his share of ill,
Walking their Heavenward road in solemn silence still.
“This Cross I clasp, and in my heart will hide,
And care no more for the bright dreams of sense;
I clasp it to my breast, nor lay aside
Until I shall resign this fleshly fence
Which keeps me from the Day.” Then vanish'd thence
That vision; as it pass'd with blue eyes mild
As of ten summers, sweet in innocence,
A face beam'd on him, and with music wild
Linger'd th' Angelic voice as of a gentle child.
And care no more for the bright dreams of sense;
I clasp it to my breast, nor lay aside
Until I shall resign this fleshly fence
Which keeps me from the Day.” Then vanish'd thence
That vision; as it pass'd with blue eyes mild
As of ten summers, sweet in innocence,
A face beam'd on him, and with music wild
Linger'd th' Angelic voice as of a gentle child.
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The rising Moon with silver-hornèd brow
Look'd through that sylvan Church; and 'neath the fall
Of gradual night the evening star e'en now
Led forth the watchmen of th' ethereal wall;
And from afar was heard most musical
A herd-boy's evening hymn;—a lonely bird
Wing'd his way homeward,—heard at interval
On the blue vault; then Silence did afford
Meet audience, that sweet voice was in the stillness heard.
Look'd through that sylvan Church; and 'neath the fall
Of gradual night the evening star e'en now
Led forth the watchmen of th' ethereal wall;
And from afar was heard most musical
A herd-boy's evening hymn;—a lonely bird
Wing'd his way homeward,—heard at interval
On the blue vault; then Silence did afford
Meet audience, that sweet voice was in the stillness heard.
| The Baptistery, or the way of eternal life | |