The Baptistery, or the way of eternal life :: :: University of Virginia Library

Look upon those starry nations
Which now come to sight around,
In their everlasting stations,
With a mighty dread profound!
For what are we, who walk with day and night,
'Mid those thick scatter'd worlds that fill the infinite?

There, as heart-appalling Wonder
Looks into the shoreless whole,
Deeper than with sounds of thunder
Steals that Silence o'er the soul,
While through the avenues of mortal sense
Opens, in vista dread, boundless Omnipotence.

Fathoming the heart's dark ocean,
Faith and Wonder stand aghast,
Calm more deep than felt emotion;—
Conscience then brings up the past,
And whispers, “Fifty years and I am gone,
Illimitable worlds, to traverse you alone!”

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One short hour, and we are parted
Into that which is to come;
Thought to bend the stoutest hearted
Should it to his breast come home;
The strongest pulse is as a spider's thread,
Spread o'er that infinite that doth receive the dead.

Hast thou ne'er from airy mountain
Look'd upon a gulf below,
Or deep cavern, where a fountain
With a glimm'ring lamp may glow?
A sinking dread upon the spirit lies,
As daring to look out on some dark destinies.

How tremendous is that portal
Into which we onward press,
Issuing to climes immortal,
Harbourless and fathomless!
How hugest mountains vanish into nought
When in our face unscar'd looks that o'erwhelming Thought!

Then the spirit to its centre
Shakes, for doubtful is our state,
And there are but few that enter
Into that the happier gate:
That Thought will then not be put by, nor go,
But in the spirit's cells it looks us through and through.

Then when strongest heart is failing
Death it calls in to its aid,
Strips aside the fleshly veiling
Round ourselves that we have made

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And in each crevice dark, where Memory lies,
Looks in the inner soul as with a spirit's eyes.

Dread the night around us standing,
With its many-peopled skies,
But more terribly expanding
Are the heart's immensities;
And thoughts of deeper dread therein may roll
Than thunderings and light which fill the starry pole.

If we now the soul surrender
Unto all that Christ doth say,
Grace and Mercy shall defend her,
While so many go astray;
With pride and lust unheeding are they led,
And know not that they tend to City of the Dead.

See throughout the swarming City,
Countless multitudes that throng,
Unto whom celestial Pity
Calls to pause,—yet calls not long,
For, one by one, full fast they disappear
Into the silent grave, where none her voice can hear.

See, the World with luring glances
Leads them on and lulls their fear,
Each as downward he advances
Less and less will lend an ear,
Proceeding on till sin's absorbing sleep
With some oblivious power their senses seems to steep.

As if there were round them playing
Some dark spirit's witching song,—
Thoughtlessness their souls arraying
All that downward path along,—

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Some evil spirit on the banks of Hell
Touching their souls with sounds to us untraceable.

With such care they clasp the treasure,
Which with them still daily dies;
So unheeding court that pleasure,
Which is fading ere it flies:
Such soft enchantment o'er their purpose steals,
And dead upon them fall stern Wisdom's calm appeals.

Blessed Angels high in Heaven
O'er the penitent rejoice;
Hast thou for thy brother striven
With an importuning voice?
Thus mayst thou here, in this sad earth's annoy,
Feel what it is to know an Angel's heavenly joy.

He that wakes his brother sleeper
Double light himself shall gain;
What, “am I my brother's keeper?”
Said of old the wicked Cain;
Christ is our Keeper, Who doth with us stay,
His brethren to awake with Him to watch and pray.

Now how many may be given
To that during fiery lake,
Who had found a place in Heaven
Hadst thou toil'd for Jesus' sake,
Hadst thou but watch'd and pray'd their souls to save
Before upon them clos'd the never-opening grave!

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Dives, lo, in torments burning,
Who had lost his day of grace,
To his friends in pity turning,
Lest they come into that place!
Shall we not, Lord of grace, in pity strive,
While still our brethren dwell with us on earth alive!

Some there are for their departed
Who at shrines and altars pray,
Bow'd to earth and broken-hearted,
And their riches give away,
If so they may but lighten the dread pains
Which hold their lov'd and lost in purifying chains.

What, if nought in sacred story
Is reveal'd beyond the tomb
Of the fires of Purgatory,
And the place of middle gloom;
We know that prayers for living souls avail,
Then shall we sit and smile at their fond fabled tale!

Nought we know of vanish'd spirits,
Whether they can aid us now;
Here we know each soul inherits
Mighty powers to save from woe,
From endless woe to save his fellow-men;
But when the door is clos'd, we know not what is then.

They who erst in Christ believ'd
E'en for others won His aid,
Through their friends whom Christ receiv'd,
They by Him all whole were made:

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So now with prayers importunate and deep,
Faith brings Christ near to raise souls that in ruin sleep.

Deem him not an useless liver
Who hath fled the appalling sight,
With the all-bestowing Giver
Interceding day and night;
Calling his Lord from the eternal place,
To save from brink of Hell, in this our day of grace.

Though the world is little heeding
Them from her who stand aloof,
They for her are interceding;
And when opes the heavenly roof,
True friends of man shall come indeed to sight,
Far more than statesman's skill or warrior's boasted might.

Cleanse by alms and fast and weeping
Sins that weigh thy spirit down;
Souls of friends, in death now sleeping,
Shall be waken'd with thine own:
Whilst thou their sins dost blend in prayer with thine,
More deeply to repent shall thine own heart incline.

Think how fast the minutes dying,
Which now bear thee to the grave,
Wing'd with prayers, and heavenward flying,
Might a tottering brother save:
While on each parting day the curtains fall,
And such occasions gone thou never canst recal!

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Think how much thy Lord sustained,
How He fasted, wept, and pray'd,
When His soul for thee was pained,
Passing through death's gloomy shade;
Remember His dear words, that 'neath the sun
Whate'er thou dost to man unto Himself is done.

Think of that day when each brother
To his brother shall be known;
If thy prayers have sav'd another,
And thy service God shall own,
How well repaid will be thy toils and pain,
If thou shalt meet him there where joys eternal reign.

Think how words in season spoken
In some sinful heart sink deep,
And the first link may have broken
Of the chains that round him creep;
Or, drop by drop, at length, and day by day,
How waters soft will wear the stubborn rocks away.

Though their inward selves they smother,
And like hidden streamlets run,
Yet men's thoughts will watch each other,
And we know not how are won;
Lights of the world a halo round them bear,
Something that sheds around Divine inspiring fear.

Have ye never read in story
Of great Antony the good,
How 'mid caves and deserts hoary
He the enemy withstood;

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Till to his countenance such peace was given,
That silently men's hearts it won to God and Heaven?

They, who in this world of sorrow
Seek for God's life-giving Face,
Something from the next shall borrow,
Loving God's own hiding-place;
Like Angels who around in stillness steal,
And God Himself Who loves unseen to work our weal.

But, when over life's short fever,
They who many turn to good
Like the stars shall shine for ever,
Bright, eternal brotherhood,
Building their houses in that City free,
Which God Himself shall gird with immortality.

Then upon the starry nations
Which now come to sight around,—
As they glimmer in their stations,
With a mighty dread profound,—
Thou mayst look out, with kindling hope and fear,
And sink within thyself, rememb'ring God is near.