Bread in the Wilderness
Dublin Core
Title
Bread in the Wilderness
Description
A voice amid the desert!
Cried to the sinful multitude, and claimed
Fruits of repentance, with the lifted scourge
Of terror and reproof. A milder guide,
With gentler tones, doth teach the listening throng.
Benignant pity moved him, as he saw
The shepherdless and poor. He knew to touch
The springs of every nature. The high love
Of Heaven, he humbled to the simplest child,
And in the guise of parable allured
The sluggish mind, to follow truth and life.
They whom the thunders of the Law had stunn'd,
Woke to the Gospel's melody, with tears,
And the glad Jewish mother held her babe
High in her arms, that her young eye might greet
Jesus of Nazareth.
Brake the strong spell of eloquence, which held
The wilderness in chains; save now and then,
As the gale freshen'd, came the murmur'd speech
Of distant billows, chafing with the shores
Of the Tiberian sea.
Day wore apace,
Noon hastened, and the lengthening shadows brought
The unexpected eve. They linger'd still,
Eyes fix'd and lips apart: - the very breath
Constrain'd, lest some escaping sigh might break
The tide of knowledge sweeping o'er their souls,
Like a strange raptur'd dream. They heeded not
The spent sun, closing at the curtain'd west
His burning journey. What was time to them,
Who heard entranc'd the Eternal Word of Life?
But the weak flesh grew weary. Hunger came
Sharpening each feature, and to faintness drain'd
Life's vigorous fount. The holy Saviour felt
Compassion for them. His disciples press
Care-stricken, to his side. "Where shall we find
Bread, in this desert?"
Then, with lifted eyes
He bless'd, and brake, the slender store of food,
And fed the famish'd thousands. Wondering awe,
With renovated strength inspired their souls,
As gazing on the miracle, they mark'd
The gather'd fragments of their feast, and heard
Such heavenly words, as lip of mortal man
Had never utter'd.
Thou, whose pitying heart
Yearn'd o'er the countless miseries of those
Whom thou did'st die to save, touch thou our souls
With the same spirit of untiring love;
Divine Redeemer! may our fellow man
Howe'er by rank or circumstance disjoin'd,
Be as a brother, in his hour of need.
Not of him,
Who in rough garments clad, and locust-fed,Cried to the sinful multitude, and claimed
Fruits of repentance, with the lifted scourge
Of terror and reproof. A milder guide,
With gentler tones, doth teach the listening throng.
Benignant pity moved him, as he saw
The shepherdless and poor. He knew to touch
The springs of every nature. The high love
Of Heaven, he humbled to the simplest child,
And in the guise of parable allured
The sluggish mind, to follow truth and life.
They whom the thunders of the Law had stunn'd,
Woke to the Gospel's melody, with tears,
And the glad Jewish mother held her babe
High in her arms, that her young eye might greet
Jesus of Nazareth.
It was so still,
Tho' thousands cluster'd there, that not a soundBrake the strong spell of eloquence, which held
The wilderness in chains; save now and then,
As the gale freshen'd, came the murmur'd speech
Of distant billows, chafing with the shores
Of the Tiberian sea.
Day wore apace,
The unexpected eve. They linger'd still,
Eyes fix'd and lips apart: - the very breath
Constrain'd, lest some escaping sigh might break
The tide of knowledge sweeping o'er their souls,
Like a strange raptur'd dream. They heeded not
The spent sun, closing at the curtain'd west
His burning journey. What was time to them,
Who heard entranc'd the Eternal Word of Life?
But the weak flesh grew weary. Hunger came
Sharpening each feature, and to faintness drain'd
Life's vigorous fount. The holy Saviour felt
Compassion for them. His disciples press
Care-stricken, to his side. "Where shall we find
Bread, in this desert?"
Then, with lifted eyes
And fed the famish'd thousands. Wondering awe,
With renovated strength inspired their souls,
As gazing on the miracle, they mark'd
The gather'd fragments of their feast, and heard
Such heavenly words, as lip of mortal man
Had never utter'd.
Thou, whose pitying heart
Whom thou did'st die to save, touch thou our souls
With the same spirit of untiring love;
Divine Redeemer! may our fellow man
Howe'er by rank or circumstance disjoin'd,
Be as a brother, in his hour of need.
Creator
Mrs. L.H. Sigourney (Lydia Huntley Sigourney)
Source
New Series 1:12, p. 4
Date
1840.05.23
Collection
Citation
Mrs. L.H. Sigourney (Lydia Huntley Sigourney), “Bread in the Wilderness,” Periodical Poets, accessed May 4, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/358.
Comments