Εικόνες σελίδας
PDF
Ηλεκτρ. έκδοση

THE POOL OF BETHESDA.

"That there should be one man die ignorant, who had a capacity for knowledge, this I call a tragedy."

THOMAS CARLYLE.

PALE, weary watcher by Bethesda's pool,
From dewy morn to silent, glowing eve;
While round thee play the freshening breezes cool,
Why wilt thou grieve?

Listen! and thou shalt hear the unearthly tread
Of heaven's bright herald passing swiftly by,
O'er the calm pool his healing wing to spread:
Why wilt thou die?

At his approach, once more the troubled wave
Leaps gushing into life, its torpor gone;
Once more called forth its boasted power to save,
Which else had none !

THE POOL OF BETHESDA.

Ah! then his spirit feels a deeper grief,

When o'er the rippling surface healing flows;
His wasted limbs experience no relief;
No help he knows!

Healing, and strength, and cure for all his woe,
May linger round that sacred fountain's brim;
Yet all unable he one step to go:

No cure for him!

No friend is watching there, whose anxious love
For him prompt access to the pool can win;
Soon as the angel did the waters move,

Others stepped in!

Oh ye! who idly pass unheeding by,

Knew ye the sickening pang of hope delayed, Your listless steps would eagerly press nigh, And give him aid.

Ah! wretched lot, of gnawing want to die,
While smiling plenty mocks us all around;
Or, shipwrecked, watch, as we all helpless lie,
Others home-bound!

75

76

THE POOL OF BETHESDA.

Yet sadder far, to him who reads aright
The story of our being's end and aim,
The spirit darkened 'mid surrounding light
By sin and shame!

To see the impervious clouds of prejudice,
Round which the sunbeams pour their light in vain;
The dead soul, fettered by the films of vice,
Knows not its chain.

Then if thy spirit freedom, knowledge drink,
Bathed in that living fount which maketh pure,
Oh! aid thy brother, ere he helpless sink,
To work his cure!

Hopeless, and helpless, vainly did He turn
For help or pity to the busy throng;

Yet found them both in ONE, whose heart did burn
With love, how strong!

1844.

SONNET,

TO THE SISTER OF AN OLD SCHOOLFELLOW.

"HEAVEN lies about us in our infancy!"
If so, we should not with indifference meet
Aught that recalls a memory so sweet
As one of bright and early days gone by!
For, could we but abide continually

As we were wont in hours so fair and fleet,
Like little children, guileless of deceit,
THIS o'er the world were glorious mastery!
My school-mate's sister! none of us can ADD
One year to life's brief span, or take from thence :
Yet ought we not, dear friend, to borrow hence
Desponding thoughts, to make our spirits sad;
But holier aspirations to be clad

In robes more white than our first innocence!

A WORD FOR PEACE.

"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you."-ST. JOHN xiv. 27.

If such the legacy bequeathed

By JESUS to his own;

If such his meek injunctions, breathed
Ere he from earth had flown;

How should his lowly followers fight,
Reading his gracious words aright?

His kingdom is not of this world!
Nor by it understood;

The banner from his cross unfurled,
Leads not to acts of blood!

The Christian's warfare is within!

With pride and passion, self and sin!

« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »