THEY are all gone into a world of light,
And I alone sit lingering here;
Their very memory is fair and bright,
And my sad thoughts doth clear.
It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast,
Like stars upon some gloomy grove;
Or those faint beams in which the hill is drest
After the sun's remove.
I see them walking in an air of glory,
Whose light doth trample on my days;
My days which are at best but dull and hoary,
Mere glimmerings and decays.
O holy hope, and high humility,
High as the heavens above!
These are your walks, and you have show'd them
Dear, beauteous Death, the jewel of the just,
Shining nowhere but in the dark,
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust;
Could man outlook that mark!
He that hath found some fledged bird's-nest, may know
At first sight if the bird be flown;
But what fair field or grove he sings in now,
That is to him unknown.
And yet as angels, in some brighter dreams,
Call to the soul when man doth sleep,
So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes,
If a star were confined into a tomb,
Her captive flame must needs burn there;
But when the hand that lock'd her up gave room
She'd shine through all the sphere.
O Father of eternal life, and all
Created glories under thee!
Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall
Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill
My perspective, still, as they pass;
Or else remove me hence unto that hill,
Where I shall need no glass.
'Tis now clear day: I see a rose
Bud in the bright east, and disclose
The pilgrim-sun; all night have I
Spent in a roving ecstasy
To find my Saviour; I have been
As far as Bethlem, and have seen
His inn and cradle: being there,
I met the wise men; asked them where
He might be found, or what star can
Now point him out, grown up a man?
To Egypt hence I fled, ran o'er
All her parch'd bosom to Nile's shore,
Her yearly nurse: came back'; inquir'd
Among the doctors, and desir'd
To see the temple; but was shown
A little dust, and for the town
A heap of ashes, where some said
A small bright sparkle was a bed,
Which would one day (beneath the pole)
Awake, and then refine the whole.
Tir'd here, I come to Sychar; thence
To Jacob's well, bequeathed since
Unto his sons; (where often they
In those calm golden evenings lay
Watering their flocks, and having spent
Those white days, drove home to the tent
Their well-fleec'd train ;) and here (O fate!)
I sit, where once my Saviour sate;
The angry spring in bubbles swell'd,
Which broke in sighs still, as they fill'd;
And whisper'd, Jesus had been there,
But Jacob's children would not hear.
Loath hence to part, at last I rise,
But with the fountain in my eyes;
And here a fresh search is decreed-
He must be found where he did bleed.
I walk the garden, and there see
Ideas of his agony,
And moving anguishments that set
His bless'd face in a bloody sweat:
I climb'd the hill, perus'd the cross,
Hung with my gain, and his great loss;
Never did tree bear fruit like this,
Balsam of souls, the body's bliss!
But, O his grave! where I saw lent
(For he had none) a monument,
An undefil'd, and new-hew'd one,
But there was not the corner-stone.
Sure, then, said I, my quest is vain,
He'll not be found, where he was slain;
So mild a Lamb can never be
'Midst so much blood and cruelty:
I'll to the wilderness, and can
Find beasts more merciful than man;
He liv'd there safe, 'twas his retreat
From the fierce Jew, and Herod's heat;
And forty days withstood the fell
And high temptations of hell.
With seraphins there talked he,
His Father's flaming ministry;
He heav'nd their walks, and with his eyes
Made those wild shades a paradise :
Thus was the desert sanctified
To be the refuge of his bride:
I'll thither then; see, it is day,
The sun's broke through to guide my way.
But as I urg'd thus, and writ down
What pleasures should my journey crown;
What silent paths, what shades and cells,
Fair virgin-flowers, and hallow'd wells,
I should rove in, and rest my head
Where my dear Lord did often tread,
Sug'ring all danger with success,
Methought I heard one singing thus:-
"Search well another world; who studies this, Travels in clouds, seeks manna where none is."
TWAS SO-I saw thy birth: that drowsy lake
From her faint bosom breath'd thee, the disease
Of her sick waters and infectious ease;
But now, at even,
Thou fall'st in tears, and weep'st for thy mistake.
Ah! it is so with me! oft have I press'd
Heaven with a lazy breath, but fruitless this
Pierc'd not; love only can with quick access
Unlock the way,
When all else stray
The smoke and exhalations of the breast.
Yet, if as thou doest melt, and with thy train
Of drops make soft the earth, my eyes could weep
O'er my hard heart, that's bound up, and asleep;
Perhaps at last
(Some such showers past,)
My God would give a sunshine after rain.
HAPPY those early days, when I
Shin'd in my angel-infancy!
Before I understood this place
Appointed for my second race;
Or taught my soul to fancy ought
But a white celestial thought;
|