385 SACRED POETRY. AN EASTER HYMN. SPIRIT! or whatsoe'er best pleas'd thou hearest, And boldest chord; and bad'st his soul aspire Kindling my lips to sing the victor name Of Him who rent stern Hades' murky thrall, And op'd Salvation's golden gate to all; He would not that one stumbler's step should fall; To save us he expir'd; to justify he rose. Full lowly deem I of my worthiness Such theme to chant, such presence to entreat; And cast it at my arisen Master's feet; Still I my least unworthy wreath would bring In royalty empyreal. Hence, away! Prevent the dawn, my steps! Spirit! awake the lay! No more Day's frighted steeds As night Tartarean blots their lucid way: Christi merita. O vos transeuntes in domum Domini, domum orationis, orate pro conservo vestro, ut inveniat misericordiam in die Domini.' The said brass plate was fastened at first, as it is there reported, over the said west door, but afterwards taken down, and fastened to the lower stone, next the body. But so it was, that, as soon as this last epitaph was put up, the contents thereof flew about the nation by the endeavours of the godly faction'......to make the world believe that the said bishop died a papist, and that the rest of the bishops were papists also, or at least popishly affected, and especially for this reason, that they adhered to his majesty, and took part with him at that time against the said faction......But so it is, let them say what they will, that the said bishop was a virtuous, generous, and godly man, and a true son of the church of England."..... "The said bishop," the annalist goes on to remark," was uncle to a most worthy, religious, and learned doctor of both his names"-the well-known Isaac Barrow. Again hath Kidron's bed Blush'd 'neath their matin tread; On Calvary now their seaward steps delay, With lamp of diamond pure, attendant Hesper waits. Along the purpling skies No cloudy arras lies; All gold and sapphire flames Creation's dome ; In olive grove and palm The gales of Heaven are calm; The plumed minstrels seek their leafy home; Earth celebrates and shares his sabbath and repose. Hark to that festal roar! To maddening mirth the guilty city springs; She staggers to her time; Night's pitying angel folds his dusky wings Where the devoted sons of Scorn With nard and Sharon's spoils their victim brows adorn. Yet brief the resting space Of Nature's onward race; Lo! what new pageant climbs the brightening skies? Opposing clouds aloof, The imperial vestal's shadowy steeds arise; Her subject hosts around retire Where'er her ivory wheel rolls on in silver fire. Nor now, as oft, the queen Bashful, averted; from her regal brow Each pensive feature pale In gaze sedate is earthward bended now, As sure some coming scene she knew Which well it might beseem celestial eye to view. And lo! what wondrous blaze The silver crowned queen hath left her throne! Her brother's noontide car Reigns o'er the heaven, unbounded and alone; A tall and martial form in youth's maturest years. (Such shape the patriarch seer, In haunted plain of Mahanaim saw, Beheld the heavenward height With angel legions throng'd; but, smit with awe, Where the bright forms expired in light unsearchable.) His eye of terror bright Glittering his vest as Tabor's sunlit snow; The guards, in trembling dread, Fall, like the stiffen'd dead; Earth to her centre reels his steps below; He rolls the barrier rock away, And Death's murk shades are fled from heaven's in-pouring day. Marvel of marvels! who, Sees Heaven's high envoy at his presence bow? Is this the Man who died? The mock'd, the crucified? It is! it is! heaven's glories on his brow, The conqueror God returns again! Burst into song, ye heavens! earth, wake the joyful strain! Uplift your heads, ye gates! Eternal doors, your opal valves expand! Who is this glorious King? He who hath fought to bring Death, Hell, and Sin, the captives of his hand ; Nor comes the warrior Chief alone: First born of countless sons, he fills heaven's shining throne. Awake and sing, ye just, That dwell in sordid dust; Not vainly on your couch heaven's dews are shed; The flower-renewing due Shall nobler seed renew; Earth shall cast forth her renovated dead; And thou shalt yield, insatiate Deep! Friend, lover, parent, child, that in thy bosom sleep. Gird thee, O Prince most high! With arms of heavenly proof thy foes subdue; The monster gods of Ind; Crush in their fanes grim Libya's dæmon crew, Thule, and Austral isles, thy peaceful rule obey. If we be risen with thee, Instruct our hearts to be Where now thou sit'st at the right hand of power; Reign in our souls alone; With arm of might dethrone Belial and Mammon in their inward tower, Awed by the present God, let each dark idol fall. When o'er the startled ball Rings the wide clarion-call, And broad combustion wraps the shrinking pole; Fall from their blazing cars, And the blue roof parts like a shrivell'd scroll, Secure and undismayed, safe in thy grace and power! Lead on, resistless Chief! Where pain, distrust, and grief, The strife victorious; Uphold us still what thou hast given to gain ! On, till the gates of pearl unfold, And our blest footsteps tread the streets of glassy gold. No flaming day-star there Flings forth his glittering hair On the clear azure; at soft eve's return, Melts through the darkening sky; No midnight Dian lights her showery urn; The nations roam beneath the beam Of the eternal light which shrouds the throne supreme. The lov'd and parted long There meet in joyous throng; Thy healing hand shall dash each tear afar, Where the immortal wise Shine as their home, the skies, And Wisdom's teachers as heaven's brightest star, From the symphonious lips of thousand seraphim. "Holiest art thou, O Lord! Worthiest the victim Lamb that once was slain; Glory and sway to Thee, Eternal Spirit! be While heaven's unresting years their course maintain; Blessing, and power, and praise, be thine for evermore." Rectory, Wrington, Feb. 1839. H. T. |