Verses on Various Occasions - John Henry Newman (best beach reads txt) 📗

bodymatter z3998:fiction"> XXXV Private Judgment

Poor wand’rers, ye are sore distress’d
To find that path which Christ has bless’d,
Track’d by His saintly throng;
Each claims to trust his own weak will,
Blind idol!⁠—so ye languish still,
All wranglers and all wrong.

He saw of old, and met your need,
Granting you prophets of His creed,
The throes of fear to swage;
They fenced the rich bequest He made,
And sacred hands have safe convey’d
Their charge from age to age.

Wand’rers! come home! obey the call!
A Mother pleads, who ne’er let fall
One grain of Holy Truth;
Warn you and win she shall and must,
For now she lifts her from the dust,
To reign as in her youth.

Off Cape Ortegal. December 11, 1832.

XXXVI The Watchman

(A Song.)

Faint not, and fret not, for threaten’d woe,
Watchman on Truth’s grey height!
Few though the faithful, and fierce though the foe,
Weakness is aye Heaven’s might.

Infidel Ammon and niggard Tyre,
Ill-fitted pair, unite;
Some work for love, and some work for hire,
But weakness shall be Heaven’s might.

Eli’s feebleness, Saul’s black wrath,
May aid Ahithophel’s spite;
And prayers from Gerizim, and curses from Gath⁠—
Our weakness shall prove Heaven’s might.

Quail not, and quake not, thou Warder bold,
Be there no friend in sight;
Turn thee to question the days of old,
When weakness was aye Heaven’s might.

Moses was one, but he stay’d the sin
Of the host, in the Presence bright;
And Elias scorn’d the Carmel din,
When Baal would match Heaven’s might.

Time’s years are many, Eternity one,
And one is the Infinite;
The chosen are few, few the deeds well done,
For scantness is still Heaven’s might.

At Sea. December 12, 1832.

XXXVII The Isles of the Sirens

Cease, Stranger, cease those piercing notes,
The craft of Siren choirs;
Hush the seductive voice, that floats
Upon the languid wires.

Music’s ethereal fire was given
Not to dissolve our clay,
But draw Promethean beams from Heaven,
And purge the dross away.

Weak self! with thee the mischief lies,
Those throbs a tale disclose;
Nor age nor trial has made wise
The Man of many woes.

Off Lisbon. December 13, 1832.

XXXVIII Absolution

O Father, list a sinner’s call!
Fain would I hide from man my fall⁠—
But I must speak, or faint⁠—
I cannot wear guilt’s silent thrall:
Cleanse me, kind Saint!

“Sinner ne’er blunted yet sin’s goad;
Speed thee, my son, a safer road,
And sue His pardoning smile
Who walk’d woe’s depths, bearing man’s load
Of guilt the while.”

Yet raise a mitigating hand,
And minister some potion bland,
Some present fever-stay!
Lest one for whom His work was plann’d
Die from dismay.

“Look not to me⁠—no grace is mine;
But I can lift the Mercy-sign.
This wouldst thou? Let it be!
Kneel down, and take the word divine,
Absolvo Te.”

Off Cape St. Vincent. December 14, 1832.

XXXIX Memory

My home is now a thousand miles away;
Yet in my thoughts its every image fair
Rises as keen, as I still linger’d there,
And, turning me, could all I loved survey.
And so, upon Death’s unaverted day,
As I speed upwards, I shall on me bear,
And in no breathless whirl, the things that were,
And duties given, and ends I did obey.
And, when at length I reach the Throne of Power,
Ah! still unscared, I shall in fulness see
The vision of my past innumerous deeds,
My deep heart-courses, and their motive-seeds,
So to gaze on till the red dooming hour.
Lord, in that strait, the Judge! remember me!

Off Cape Trafalgar. December 15, 1832.

XL The Haven

Whence is this awe, by stillness spread
O’er the world-fretted soul?
Wave rear’d on wave its godless head,
While my keen bark, by breezes sped,
Dash’d fiercely through the ocean bed,
And chafed towards its goal.

But now there reigns so deep a rest,
That I could almost weep.
Sinner! thou hast in this rare guest
Of Adam’s peace a figure blest;
’Tis Eden neared, though not possess’d,
Which cherub-flames still keep.

Gibraltar. December 16, 1832.

XLI A Word in Season

O Lord! when sin’s close-marshall’d line
Assails Thy witness on his way,
How should he raise Thy glorious sign,
And how Thy will display?

Thy holy Paul, with soul of flame,
Rose on Mars’ hill, a soldier lone;
Shall I thus speak th’ Atoning Name,
Though with a heart of stone?

“Not so,” He said: “hush thee, and seek,
With thoughts in prayer and watchful eyes,
My seasons sent for thee to speak,
And use them as they rise.”

Gibraltar. December 17, 1832.

XLII Fair Words

Thy words are good, and freely given,
As though thou felt them true;
Friend, think thee well, to hell or heaven
A serious heart is due.

It pains thee sore, man’s will should swerve
In his true path divine;
And yet thou ventur’st nought to serve
Thy neighbour’s weal nor thine.

Beware! such words may once be said,
Where shame and fear unite;
But, spoken twice, they mark instead
A sin against the light.

Gibraltar. December 17, 1832.

XLIII England

Tyre of the West, and glorying in the name
More than in Faith’s pure fame!
O trust not crafty fort nor rock renown’d
Earn’d upon hostile ground;
Wielding Trade’s master-keys, at thy proud will
To lock or loose its waters, England! trust not still.

Dread thine own power! Since haughty Babel’s prime,
High towers have been man’s crime.
Since her hoar age, when the huge moat lay bare,
Strongholds have been man’s snare.
Thy nest is in the crags; ah! refuge frail!
Mad counsel in its hour, or traitors, will prevail.

He who scann’d Sodom for His righteous men
Still spares thee for thy ten;
But, should vain tongues the Bride of Heaven defy,
He will not pass thee by;
For, as earth’s kings welcome their spotless guest,
So gives He them by turn, to suffer or be blest.

At Sea. December 18, 1832.

XLIV Moses

Moses, the patriot fierce, became
The meekest man on earth,
To show us how love’s quick’ning flame
Can give our souls new birth.

Moses, the man of meekest heart,
Lost Canaan by self-will,
To show, where Grace