On her bed of protracted and lingering sickness.
ONCE again, long silent lyre,
Sound beneath this weary finger,
Speak–but breathe with holy fire,
As near Jordan’s wave I linger.
HARRIET , love! for thee it wakes
From its night of deathlike slumbers;
Hear it, as it slowly breaks
O’er thy ear in worthless numbers.
‘Tis not like thy harp divine,
Ev’ry sep’rate string a treasure;
No, thou dear one! harp of mine
Never breath’d such sacred measure.
Once indeed its varying chord,
Much of love and mercy telling,
Spake the name of HARRIET’S LORD ,
Faintly ‘midst its feeble swelling.
But, alas! far different theme
Year by year engross’d its numbers;
Many a visionary dream
Floated through its short-liv’d slumbers.
Till Grace in this unworthy breast
Arose, my soul forget it never;
And hush’d such useless song to rest,
While some vile strings it snapt forever.
Thus mutilated, thus undone,
Wilt thou attend its whisp’ring, dearest?
Dead to all other themes but one,
And that to HARRIET’S bosom nearest.
Yes, thou wilt lend a list’ning ear,
As ling’ring thus by Jordan’s river,
All rack’d with pain, all bath’d in tears,
Thou blessest GOD , of pain the giver!
Pain which has laid thee in his arms,
Who bled on Calv’ry’s hallow’d mountain,
Whose love thy patient bosom warms,
Who wash’d thee in his own heart’s fountain.
Yes, thou wilt cast a pitying eye
Back to the world’s blank wilderness;
And for a Sister heave one sigh,
Who feels , who loathes its nothingness !
Retrace in thought the desert waste,
Replete with thorns, with sins, with danger;
Nor wonder if impatient haste
Assail my soul, a pilgrim stranger!
I view thee, HARRIET , near the brink
Of that sweet stream whose waters sever
GOD’S little flock, a chosen link
Of trav’llers, from its snares for ever!
I view myself despoil’d by sin,
Hemm’d round by many a sore temptation,
And scarcely can discern within
An interest in that holy nation!
I view far off fair Zion’s hill,
Far off, dear HARRIET ! there’s my sorrow!
Here, many a duty waits me still,
Through many a cloudy dark tomorrow.
Perhaps not midway through the storm!
Oh! to depart were surely better:
When will Death chill this heart so warm,
And loose the “silver cord’s” soft fetter?
When will He break the golden bowl,
Which dips so deep in life’s red fountain?
When will He free this struggling soul,
To wing her flight up Zion’s mountain?
When will the “mourners through the street”
Glide dimly slow ‘mid tears and terror,
Mourning a heart whose ev’ry beat
Was fed by sorrow, sin, and error?
When shall the “dust return to earth?”
This spirit mount to God who gave it?
Where it can only know His worth,
Whose precious blood alone could save it.
But cease, impatient sinner! cease;
These murmuring sighs are sighs of treason:
Peace, my rebellious spirit, peace!
Await in silence Heaven’s own season!
Should Death snap short the “silver cord,”
That weaves my web of life’s dull story,
Am I prepar’d to meet my Lord,
The dear EMMANUEL , in His glory?
Should at the “Cistern’s” sluice the wheel
Stop–or the “golden bowl” be broken,
Can I a full assurance feel?
Can I of heirship show one token?
Have I a mourning, contrite soul?
The Child of Zion’s deep distress?
The lowly JESU’S self-control,
Or robe of perfect righteousness?
Are all my thoughts with Him above?
My doubtings lost in veneration?
Do I obey this Lamb of love,
His follower in regeneration?
Holds the Eternal Dove his place
Within my breast, serenely smiling?
Bright “witness” of Redeeming grace,
That breast of sin’s sharp pang beguiling.
A “still small voice” forbids this dream;
Truth’s inward voice, I can’t resist her;
But turn from self, unlovely theme!
To thee, my holy, heaven-bound sister.
Lamb of the flock! thy title’s sure;
Thy evidence of heirship certain;
Thy hidden life in CHRIST secure,
When Death unfolds his sable curtain!
Borne in the Shepherd’s fostering arms,
MY HARRIET smiles as Death advances:
His love the icy King disarms,
The Monarch’s dart His love enhances!
He’ll bear thee still, when Jordan parts
Thy passage to a brighter dwelling;
And press thee closer to His heart,
Amidst its billows’ fearful swelling!
Oh, HARRIET ! on blest Canaan’s shore,
Emerging from the confluent water,
He’ll hail thee His for evermore,
The King of Heaven’s ransom’d daughter.
Ransom’d by love! by that deep sigh
Which burst his sorrowing heart asunder,
Which drain’d that living fountain dry,
To quench the fires of Legal thunder!
His” chosen” sister, friend “elect,”
“Sought out” in sorrow, sin, and anguish,
When hope of heavenly life was wreck’d,
And earthly life began to languish!
His charge through many a painful year,
When “toss’d, afflicted,” low in spirit,
He whisper’d, dear one, do not fear,
Venture thy peace on JESU’S merit!
And thou didst venture all below,
And all above! Thou sought’st no other,
But wander’d through a vale of woe,
Reclining on thy “Elder Brother!”
When Death one mind-felt tie had burst,
And thou receiv’d’st the blow in meekness,
When fell disease had done its worst,
And sunk thee to the earth in weakness;
Heaven’s Darling rais’d thee to His side,
Much of the wilderness before thee,
Op’ning his arms of pity wide,
On his warm melting bosom bore thee!
Think’st thou He’ll ever quit thee, dear?
Oh, let not unbelief o’ertake thee!
Chase from thy mind the impious fear,
He’ll never leave thee, nor forsake thee!
Till near the Rainbow-circled Throne,
To kindred Angels He displays thee;
And claiming thee His very own,
On His great FATHER’S bosom lays thee!
Dear HARRIET , daughter of our God!
Improve the precious hours He lends thee!
In patience bear the chast’ning rod,
That messenger of love He sends thee!
While still on this side Jordan’s stream,
Let fervent prayer ascend unceasing;
Remember, every solar beam
That dawns on thee, is Time decreasing.
Yes, envied Saint! thy heaven’s at hand–
When present, list’ning to thy story,
I view’d thee hast’ning to that land,
I mark’d thee rip’ning fast for glory!
And when my tears rain’d o’er thy face,
At parting, and thine own flow’d faster,
I wish’d thee in that better place,
The mansion of thy holy Master!
Dearest! forget not in thy prayers
Her thou wilt leave behind in trouble!
Surrounded by external cares,
And sin, which makes their pressure double!
And should we never meet again,
Till thy freed soul has fled her prison;
Till in that City without Fane,
The Star of Bethlehem is risen!
Farewell! and may we ‘neath its rays
Embrace in more exalted union,
And with our GOD of ancient days,
And JESUS CHRIST , hold sweet communion!
(Charlotte Eliza Dixon)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, God Poems, Life Poems, World Poems, Mind Poems, Sadness Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Soul Poems, War & Peace Poems, Faces Poems, Heaven PoemsBased on Keywords: sep, disarms, deathlike, short-liv, snapt, protracted, cistern, despoil, engross, mutilated, doubtings