Verses on Various Occasions - John Henry Newman (best beach reads txt) š
- Author: John Henry Newman
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The Cross to carry in his place.
But if he hears and sits him still,
First, he will lose his hate of ill;
Next, fear of sinning, after hate;
Small sins his heart then desecrate;
And last, despair persuades to great.
Off Ithaca. December 30, 1832.
LIV The Death of MosesMy Fatherās hope! my childhoodās dream!
The promise from on high!
Long waited for! its glories beam
Now when my death is nigh.
My death is come, but not decay;
Nor eye nor mind is dim;
The keenness of youthās vigorous day
Thrills in each nerve and limb.
Blest scene! thrice welcome after toilā ā
If no deceit I view;
O might my lips but press the soil,
And prove the vision true!
Its glorious heights, its wealthy plains,
Its many-tinted groves,
They call! but He my steps restrains
Who chastens whom He loves.
Ah! now they meltā āā ā¦ they are but shadesā āā ā¦
I die!ā āyet is no rest,
O Lord! in store, since Canaan fades
But seen, and not possest?
Off Ithaca. December 30, 1832.
LV MelchizedekāWithout father, without mother, without descent; having neither beginning of days, nor end of life.ā
Thrice blessād are they, who feel their loneliness;
To whom nor voice of friends nor pleasant scene
Brings aught on which the saddenād heart can lean;
Yea, the rich earth, garbād in her daintiest dress
Of light and joy, doth but the more oppress,
Claiming responsive smiles and rapture high;
Till, sick at heart, beyond the veil they fly,
Seeking His Presence, who alone can bless.
Such, in strange days, the weapons of Heavenās grace;
When, passing oāer the high-born Hebrew line,
He moulds the vessel of His vast design;
Fatherless, homeless, reft of age and place,
Severād from earth, and careless of its wreck,
Born through long woe His rare Melchizedek.
Corfu. January 5, 1833.
LVI CorcyraI sat beneath an oliveās branches grey,
And gazed upon the sight of a lost town,
By sage and poet raised to long renown;
Where dwelt a race that on the sea held sway,
And, restless as its waters, forced a way
For civil strife a hundred states to drown.
That multitudinous stream we now note down
As though one life, in birth and in decay.
But is their beingās history spent and run,
Whose spirits live in awful singleness,
Each in its self-formād sphere of light or gloom?
Henceforth, while pondering the fierce deeds then done,
Such reverence on me shall its seal impress
As though I corpses saw, and walkād the tomb.
At Sea. January 7, 1833.
LVII TransfigurationāThey glorified God in me.ā
I saw thee once and nought discernād
For stranger to admire;
A serious aspect, but it burnād
With no unearthly fire.
Again I saw, and I confessād
Thy speech was rare and high;
And yet it vexād my burdenād breast,
And scared, I knew not why.
I saw once more, and awe-struck gazed
On face, and form, and air;
Godās living glory round thee blazedā ā
A Saintā āa Saint was there!
Off Zante. January 8, 1833.
LVIII Behind the VeilBanishād the House of sacred rest,
Amid a thoughtless throng,
At length I heard its creed confessād,
And knelt the saints among.
Artless his strain and unadornād,
Who spoke Christās message there;
But what at home I might have scornād,
Now charmād my famishād ear.
Lord, grant me this abiding grace,
Thy Word and sons to know;
To pierce the veil on Mosesā face,
Although his speech be slow.
At Sea. January 9, 1833.
LIX JudgmentIf eāer I fall beneath Thy rod,
As through lifeās snares I go,
Save me from Davidās lot, O God!
And choose Thyself the woe.
How should I face Thy plagues? which scare,
And haunt, and stun, until
The heart or sinks in mute despair,
Or names a random ill.
If elseā āā ā¦ then guide in Davidās path,
Who chose the holier pain;
Satan and man are tools of wrath,
An Angelās scourge is gain.
Off Malta. January 10, 1833.
LX SensitivenessTime was, I shrank from what was right
From fear of what was wrong;
I would not brave the sacred fight,
Because the foe was strong.
But now I cast that finer sense
And sorer shame aside;
Such dread of sin was indolence,
Such aim at Heaven was pride.
So, when my Saviour calls, I rise,
And calmly do my best;
Leaving to Him, with silent eyes
Of hope and fear, the rest.
I step, I mount where He has led;
Men count my haltings oāer;ā ā
I know them; yet, though self I dread,
I love His precept more.
Lazaret, Malta. January 15, 1833.
LXI David and JonathanāThy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.ā
O heart of fire! misjudged by wilful man,
Thou flower of Jesseās race!
What woe was thine, when thou and Jonathan
Last greeted face to face!
He doomād to die, thou on us to impress
The portent of a blood-stainād holiness.
Yet it was well:ā āfor so, āmid cares of rule
And crimeās encircling tide,
A spell was oāer thee, zealous one, to cool
Earth-joy and kingly pride;
With battle-scene and pageant, prompt to blend
The pale calm spectre of a blameless friend.
Ah! had he lived, before thy throne to stand,
Thy spirit keen and high
Sure it had snappād in twain loveās slender band,
So dear in memory;
Paul, of his comrade reft, the warning givesā ā
He lives to us who dies, he is but lost who lives.
Lazaret, Malta. January 16, 1833.
LXII HumiliationI have been honourād and obeyād,
I have met scorn and slight;
And my heart loves earthās sober shade,
More than her laughing light.
For what is rule but a sad weight
Of duty and a snare?
What meanness, but with happier fate
The Saviourās Cross to share?
This my hid choice, if not from heaven,
Moves on the heavenward line;
Cleanse it, good Lord, from earthly leaven,
And make it simply Thine.
Lazaret, Malta. January 16, 1833.
LXIII The Call of DavidāAnd the Lord said, Arise, anoint him, for this is he.ā
Latest born of Jesseās race,
Wonder
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