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.
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.
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.
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.
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;
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