Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

The beams of this angelic life at last
Broke out, and summon'd in new admiration ;
For man at length, that duller, ruder beast,
Is by these brutes convinced to imitation :

Behold that thronging rout, which hither flies;
See how they stare, and scarce believe their eyes.

These deserts nothing less than desert seem,
Being crowded from themselves, and now become
Jury's thick towns, and fair Jerusalem,

Which hither have removed their populous home:
What now has John lost by his private cell,

To which whole towns and cities flock to dwell?

Thus generous honor righteously disdains
Even to be touch'd by the high-panting reach
Of bold ambition; but through hills and plains,
And dens and caves, and deserts hunts to catch
The modest fugitive, whom worth doth hurry
From worth's reward, and makes afraid of glory.

His auditory now so ample grown,

The noble Ermite is resolved to preach :
"Behold," says he, " that promised glory's dawn,
(Which to behold, the patriarchs, did reach

Their necks and eyes through many a shady thing,)
In your horizon now begins to spring.

"O fail ye not to meet his gracious beams
With undefiled hearts; for such is He;
And will baptize you with refined streams
Of searching fire, that you may metal be
Of pure alloy, and, signed with his face
And motto, through his realm for current pass.

"Let not that power of spots and blots, which in
Your souls now reigns, make you despair to be
Freed from the filthy bondage of your sin,
For you aforehand shall be wash'd by me;
My water for his fire the way prepares,
As for my water must your hearty tears."

Observ'st thou, Psyche, how that silver stream
Its limpid self doth through the girdle wind:
This Jordan is, and there the people seem
At busy crowding strife who first should find
A better baptism in those floods, which may
Their fruitless legal washings wash away.

wwwwww

Christ Baptized by John.

[Another scene represented in the girdle.]

BUT mark that graceful He: how sweet his eye,
How delicate and how divine his face
Embellish'd with heart-conquering majesty!
Wert thou to choose thy spouse, wouldst thou not place
Thy soul to Him? 'Tis He: O no, it is
As much of him as jewels can express.

To be baptized, not cleansed, cometh He,
Who is more spotless than that living Light
Which gilds the crest of heaven's sublimity;
He comes, by being washed to wash white

Baptism itself, that it henceforth from Him
And his pure touch, with purity may swim.

As when, amongst a gross ignoble crowd
Of flints and peebles and such earth-bred stones,
An heaven-descended diamond strives to shroud
Its lustre's brave ejaculations;

Although it 'scapes the test of vulgar eyes,
The wiser jeweller the gem descries:-

So most judicious John's discerning eye
This Stranger's shy but noble splendor read;
Besides, when others to their baptism by
A penitent confession prefaced,

He waved that useless circumstance, and so
Himself conceal'd, yet intimated too.

See how suspense astounds the Baptist: for
The promised sign his Master to descry

Appeared not: this made his just demur
Dispute the case, and resolutely cry,

"If Thou art spotless, fitter 'tis for me
Who sinful am, to be baptized by Thee."

But when his Lord reply'd, "For once let me
Prevail, since thus alone we must fulfil
The sum of righteousness;" ambiguous, He
Felt sacred awe surprise his trembling will:
He mused, and guess'd, and hovered about
The glimmering truth with many a yielding thought.

Which Jesus seeing, He upon him threw
The urgent yoke of an express injunction;
Whose virtue forthwith efficacious grew,

And made the meek saint bow to his high functions:
Cast but thine eye a little up the stream,
Wading in crystal there thou seest them.

Old Jordan smiled, receiving such high pay
For those small pains obedient he had spent,
Making his waters guard the dryed way
Through wonders when to Canaan Israel went;
Nor does he envy now Pactolus streams

Or eastern floods, whose paths are paved with gems.

The waves came crowding one upon another
To their fair Lord, their chaste salute to give :
Each one did chide and justle back his brother,
And with laborious foaming murmur strive

To kiss those feet, and so more spotless grow,
Than from its virgin spring it first did flow.

But those most happy drops the Baptist cast
On life's pure head, into the joyless sea
Which borroweth from death its stile, made haste,
And soon confuted that sad heraldry:

The deep that day revived, and clapt his hands,
And roll'd his smiles about his wond'ring strands.

See there thy spouse is on the bank, and more
Than heaven flown down and pitch'd upon his head;
That snowy Dove, which perched heretofore
High on the all-illustrious throne of God,

Hath chose this seat, nor thinks it a descent
On such high terms to leave the firmament.

For wheresoever Jesus is, although
In the profoundest gulph of black disgrace,
Still Glory triumphs in his soveraign brow,
Still Majesty holds its imperial place

In the bright orb of his all-lovely eye;
Still most depressed He remains Most High.

And heaven well witness'd this strange truth, which in
That wondrous instant oped its mouth, and cry'd,
"This is my darling Son, in whom do shine
All my joy's jewels." O how far and wide

That voice did fly, on which each wind gat hold,
And round about the world the wonder told.

wwwwww

Christ stilling the Tempest.

HERE having step'd aboard, He turn'd his eye
Upon the storm, and sternly signified
His royal will: their duty instantly
The winds discover'd in that glance, and hied
Away in such great haste and fear, that they
Lost all their breath and spirits by the way.

The mutinous billows saw his awful look,
And hush'd themselves all close into their deep :
The sea grew tame and smooth; the thunder broke
Its threatning off; forth durst no lightning peep,
But kept its black nest, now outshined by
The flashing mandates of its Master's eye.

The Devils, who all this while had toss'd and rent
The elements, perceived the final wrack

Fall on their own design, and yelling went
Home to their pangs; the clouds in sunder brake,
And having clear'd the scene of these loud wars,
Left heaven's free face all full of smiling stars.

Forthwith the ship without or sail, or tide,
Kept strait its course, and flew to kiss the shore:
Where Jesus deigns to be the vessel's Guide,
There needs no help of time, tide, wind, or oar;
His eye alone might drive the bark, whose look
Abash'd the sea, the storm with terror stroke.

His eye, his eye is that eternal star

Which gildeth both the poles; which day and night
Equally shines; which guides all those who are
Sailing in life's rough sea: for by his light,

And none but his, each mortal mariner
Who goes for safety's port, his course must steer.

THOMAS KEN.

BORN 1637. DIED 1710.

Sometime Bishop of Bath and Wells. He had the double honour of being one of the seven prelates, sent to the Tower for protesting against the tyrannical usurpations of spiritual authority by James II. and also of conscientiously vacating his see, rather than take the oaths to William III. after having sworn allegiance to his predecessor. His Poems are numerous and of considerable merit, though by three only is he now generally known-the Morning, Evening, and Midnight Hymns.

wwwwww

Christ's virtual presence on Earth.

WHEN Peter cry'd out, sinking in the wave,
And Jesus stretch'd his hand the saint to save;
Had Jesus been in heaven when Peter pray'd,
And sent invisible, yet mighty aid;

« VorigeDoorgaan »