Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets Part 83

What sighs, what whispers, busy stops and stays, Private and holy talk, fill all the ways?

They pa.s.s as at the last great day, and run In their white robes to seek the risen Sun; I see them, hear them, mark their haste, and move Amongst them, with them, winged with faith and love.

Thy forty days' more secret commerce here After thy death and funeral, so clear And indisputable, shows to my sight As the sun doth, which to those days gave light.

I walk the fields of Bethany, which shine All now as fresh as Eden, and as fine.

Such was the bright world on the first seventh day, Before man brought forth sin, and sin decay; When like a virgin clad in flowers and green The pure earth sat, and the fair woods had seen No frost, but flourished in that youthful vest With which their great Creator had them dressed: When heaven above them shined like molten gla.s.s, While all the planets did unclouded pa.s.s; And springs, like dissolved pearls, their streams did pour, Ne'er marred with floods, nor angered with a shower.

With these fair thoughts I move in this fair place, And the last steps of my mild Master trace.

I see him leading out his chosen train All sad with tears, which like warm summer rain In silent drops steal from their holy eyes, Fixed lately on the cross, now on the skies.

And now, eternal Jesus! thou dost heave Thy blessed hands to bless those thou dost leave.

The cloud doth now receive thee, and their sight Having lost thee, behold two men in white!

Two and no more: 'What two attest is true,'

Was thine own answer to the stubborn Jew.

Come then, thou faithful Witness! come, dear Lord, Upon the clouds again to judge this world!

[1] 'Thy convert:' St Mary Magdalene.

c.o.c.k-CROWING.

1 Father of lights! what sunny seed, What glance of day hast thou confined Into this bird? To all the breed This busy ray thou hast a.s.signed; Their magnetism works all night, And dreams of paradise and light.

2 Their eyes watch for the morning hue, Their little grain-expelling night So shines and sings, as if it knew The path unto the house of light.

It seems their candle, howe'er done, Was tinned and lighted at the sun.

3 If such a tincture, such a touch, So firm a longing can empower, Shall thy own image think it much To watch for thy appearing hour?

If a mere blast so fill the sail, Shall not the breath of G.o.d prevail?

4 O thou immortal light and heat!

Whose hand so shines through all this frame, That by the beauty of the seat, We plainly see who made the same, Seeing thy seed abides in me, Dwell thou in it, and I in thee!

5 To sleep without thee is to die; Yea,'tis a death partakes of h.e.l.l: For where thou dost not close the eye It never opens, I can tell.

In such a dark, Egyptian border, The shades of death dwell, and disorder.

6 If joys, and hopes, and earnest throes, And hearts, whose pulse beats still for light, Are given to birds; who, but thee, knows A love-sick soul's exalted flight?

Can souls be tracked by any eye But his, who gave them wings to fly?

7 Only this veil which thou hast broke, And must be broken yet in me, This veil, I say, is all the cloak And cloud which shadows me from thee.

This veil thy full-eyed love denies, And only gleams and fractions spies.

8 Oh, take it off! make no delay; But brush me with thy light, that I May shine unto a perfect day, And warm me at thy glorious eye!

Oh, take it off! or till it flee, Though with no lily, stay with me!

THE PALM-TREE.

1 Dear friend, sit down, and bear awhile this shade, As I have yours long since. This plant you see So pressed and bowed, before sin did degrade Both you and it, had equal liberty

2 With other trees; but now, shut from the breath And air of Eden, like a malcontent It thrives nowhere. This makes these weights, like death And sin, hang at him; for the more he's bent

3 The more he grows. Celestial natures still Aspire for home. This Solomon of old, By flowers, and carvings, and mysterious skill Of wings, and cherubims, and palms, foretold.

4 This is the life which, hid above with Christ In G.o.d, doth always (hidden) multiply, And spring, and grow, a tree ne'er to be priced, A tree whose fruit is immortality.

5 Here spirits that have run their race, and fought, And won the fight, and have not feared the frowns Nor loved the smiles of greatness, but have wrought Their Master's will, meet to receive their crowns.

6 Here is the patience of the saints: this tree Is watered by their tears, as flowers are fed With dew by night; but One you cannot see Sits here, and numbers all the tears they shed.

7 Here is their faith too, which if you will keep When we two part, I will a journey make To pluck a garland hence while you do sleep, And weave it for your head against you wake.

THE GARLAND.

1 Thou, who dost flow and flourish here below, To whom a falling star and nine days' glory, Or some frail beauty, makes the bravest show, Hark, and make use of this ensuing story.

When first my youthful, sinful age Grew master of my ways, Appointing error for my page, And darkness for my days; I flung away, and with full cry Of wild affections, rid In post for pleasures, bent to try All gamesters that would bid.

I played with fire, did counsel spurn, Made life my common stake; But never thought that fire would burn, Or that a soul could ache.

Glorious deceptions, gilded mists, False joys, fantastic flights, Pieces of sackcloth with silk lists, These were my prime delights.

I sought choice bowers, haunted the spring, Culled flowers and made me posies; Gave my fond humours their full wing, And crowned my head with roses.

But at the height of this career I met with a dead man, Who, noting well my vain abear, Thus unto me began: 'Desist, fond fool, be not undone; What thou hast cut to-day Will fade at night, and with this sun Quite vanish and decay.'

2 Flowers gathered in this world, die here; if thou Wouldst have a wreath that fades not, let them grow, And grow for thee. Who spares them here, shall find A garland, where comes neither rain nor wind.

LOVE-SICK.

Jesus, my life! how shall I truly love thee!

Oh that thy Spirit would so strongly move me, That thou wert pleased to shed thy grace so far As to make man all pure love, flesh a star!

A star that would ne'er set, but ever rise, So rise and run, as to outrun these skies, These narrow skies (narrow to me) that bar, So bar me in, that I am still at war, At constant war with them. Oh, come, and rend Or bow the heavens! Lord, bow them and descend, And at thy presence make these mountains flow, These mountains of cold ice in me! Thou art Refining fire; oh, then, refine my heart, My foul, foul heart! Thou art immortal heat; Heat motion gives; then warm it, till it beat; So beat for thee, till thou in mercy hear; So hear, that thou must open; open to A sinful wretch, a wretch that caused thy woe; Thy woe, who caused his weal; so far his weal That thou forgott'st thine own, for thou didst seal Mine with thy blood, thy blood which makes thee mine, Mine ever, ever; and me ever thine.

PSALM CIV.

1 Up, O my soul, and bless the Lord! O G.o.d, My G.o.d, how great, how very great art thou!

Honour and majesty have their abode With thee, and crown thy brow.

2 Thou cloth'st thyself with light as with a robe, And the high, glorious heavens thy mighty hand Doth spread like curtains round about this globe Of air, and sea, and land.

3 The beams of thy bright chambers thou dost lay In the deep waters, which no eye can find; The clouds thy chariots are, and thy pathway The wings of the swift wind.

4 In thy celestial, gladsome messages Despatched to holy souls, sick with desire And love of thee, each willing angel is Thy minister in fire.

5 Thy arm unmoveable for ever laid And founded the firm earth; then with the deep As with a vail thou hidd'st it; thy floods played Above the mountains steep.

6 At thy rebuke they fled, at the known voice Of their Lord's thunder they retired apace: Some up the mountains pa.s.sed by secret ways, Some downwards to their place.

7 For thou to them a bound hast set, a bound Which, though but sand, keeps in and curbs whole seas: There all their fury, foam, and hideous sound, Must languish and decrease.

8 And as thy care bounds these, so thy rich love Doth broach the earth; and lesser brooks lets forth, Which run from hills to valleys, and improve Their pleasure and their worth.

9 These to the beasts of every field give drink; There the wild a.s.ses swallow the cool spring: And birds amongst the branches on their brink Their dwellings have, and sing.