With the triumphant. Ah! I surely hear
The voices of the spirits of the saints,
And witnesses to the Redeeming Truth;
Not, as of old, in scanty scattered strains,
Breathed from the caves of earth and cells of cities—
Nor as the voice of martyr choked with fire—
But in one solemn Heaven-pervading hymn
Of happiness impregnable, as when
From the bright walls of the Son’s city they
Looked on the war of Hell, host upon host,
Foiled by God’s single sword before their gates
Of perfect pearl;—nearer and nearer now!
This is the sign, O God! which Thou hast given,
And I will praise Thee through Eternity.
From Heaven.
Call all who love Thee, Lord, to Thee!
Thou knowest how they long
To leve these broken lays, and aid
In Heaven’s unceasing song;
How they long, Lord, to go to Thee,
And hail Thee with their eyes—
Thee in Thy blessedness, and all
The nations of the skies;All who have loved Thee and done well,
Of every age, creed, clime,
The boat of saved ones from the ends
And all the worlds of time:
The wise in matter and in mind,
The soldier, sage, and priest,
King, prophet, hero, saint, and bard,
The greatest soul and least;The old and young and very babe,
The maiden and the youth,
All re-born angels of one age—
The age of Heaven and truth;
The rich, the poor, the good, the bad,
Redeemed, alike, from sin;
Lord! close the book of time, and let
Eternity begin.
Will ye away, ye blessed ones? To God
I then commend ye, and my soul with yours.
And midst the light in which ye live, oh! mind
Of all the sunless days and starless nights
Which myriads pass on earth, and pray for them!
Oh! pray for those who in the world’s dark womb
Are bound, Who know not yet their Father, God!—
Lord of all earth, all worlds, all Heaven! lift up
My spirit to Thy glory! Let me share
The comfort of Thy love, and while ordained
To the great task I have to go through, let
No more misgivings, fears, nor mortal doubts,
With the cold dew of darkness chill the soul
Which Thou hast hallowed with Thy love, and which,
Like molten gold within its mould, hath made
The thing that holds it precious;—or if, Lord!
For Thine own purpose, Thou wilt suffer such,
May they pass quick and perish tracelessly;
So, too, all thoughts of earth and pangs of death
May I o’ercome at last, and with Thy chosen,
Seraphs and saints, and all-possessing souls,
Which minister unto the universe,
Enthroned in spirit and intensest bliss,
Succeed to Heaven for ever.
Mortal, hear!
The soul once saved shall never cease from bliss,
Nor God lose that He buyeth with His blood.
She doth not sin. The deeds which look like sin,
The flesh and the false world, are all to her
Hallowed and glorified. The world is changed.
She hath a resurrection unto God
While in the flesh, before the final one,
And is with God. Her state shall never fail.
Even the molten granite which hath split
Mountains, and lieth now like curdled blood
In marble veins, shall flow again when comes
The heat which is to end all; when the air
Is as a ravening fire, and what at first
Produced, at last consumeth; but the soul
Redeemed is dear to God as His own throne,
And shall no sooner perish. Hearken, man!
Wilt thou distrust God? Doubt on doubt no more.
Prepare thee for the power and lot sublime
Whereto the Lord hath called thee. He hath heard
The prayers with which thou hast entreated Him,
And bids me tell thee, shrink not, doubt not. He
Will comfort and uphold thee at the end;
For after God the Chooser, God the Slain,
Cometh the God of Comfort to the heart,
Whose action and effect is ministrant
For ever after—consummating all.
I fear, I fear this miracle of Death
Is something terrible. But go to God,
Thou angel, and declare that I repent
Of all misdeeds; that but for His own grace
I should repent of my whole life; that on
That grace, which now hath sanctified the whole,
I trust for all the rest of it, and then
For ever; that I am prepared to act
And suffer as He bids, and in all things
To do His will rejoicing.
It is done.
Oh! I repent me of a thousand sins,
In number as the breaths which I have breathed.
Am I forgiven?
Child of God, thou art.
It is God prompts, inspires, and answers prayer;
Not sin, nor yet repentance, which avails:
And none can truly worship but who have
The earnest of their glory from on high—
God’s nature in them. The world cannot worship.
And whether the lip speak, or in inspired
Silence we clasp our hearts as a shut book
Of song unsung, the silence and the speech
Is each His; and as coming from and going
To Him, is worthy of Him and His Love.
Prayer is the spirit speaking truth to Truth;
The expiration of the thing inspired.
I go. Thy God is with thee. We shall meet
Again in Heaven, no more to part
Thou art gone!
’Tis sweet to feel we are encircled here
By breath of angels as the stars by Heaven;
And the soul’s own relations, all divine,
As kind as even those of blood;—and thus
While friends and kin, like Saturn’s double rings,
Cheer us along our orbit, we may feel
We are not lone in life, but that earth’s part
Of Heaven and all things. Praise we, therefore God!
O all ye angels, pray and praise with us!—
XXX
Scene—A gathering of kings and peoples.
| Festus |
Throned. Princes and Peoples! Powers once, of earth! |
