The Burden and the Cross

The Burden and the Cross

"Now I saw in my dream, that the highway which Christian was to go, was fenced on either side with a wall, and that wall was called Salvation; Isaiah 26; 1. Up this way, therefore, did burdened Christian run, but not without great difficulty, because of the load on his back. He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending; and upon that place stood a Cross, and a little below, in the bottom, a sepulchre. So I saw in my dream, that just as Christian came up with the Cross, his burden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and began to tumble, and so continued to do, till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no more." - Pilgrim's Progress.

We bear along our toilsome way

A burden taken at the birth;

How deeply, sadly, none may say,

It baws the wearer down to earth!

'Tis written, like the prophet's scroll,

All sighs without, all woes within,

It lays upon the fainting soul

The grievous malison of sin.

Go where we may, it goes with us;

At home, abroad, or well, or ill;

In mirth, in joy, the constant curse

Is woven with existence still.

It shames us in the open mart;

It dyes our cheek in secret hour;

It sits, a vulture, on the heart,

And tortures with unsparing power.

There is no peace around the board,

Though heaped with meats and crowned with wine;

There is no peace where Heaven hath stored

For man, domestic bliss, divine.

There is no peace in balmy sleep;

No angel there to bid it seem

Like Eden, where immortals keep

Watch o'er the lips of those that dream.

To madness urged, we leave our home,

God knows with what disturbed intent

To crush reflection as we roam, -

To wander till his grace is spent!

Yet vain to us the painted fields,

Or vallies smiling with the sheaf;

The roadside flower no sweetness yields

To journeyers in guilt and grief.

Across the desert lies the way

To that high place of fearful name, -

We choose it, and, regardless, stray

To Sinai's awful mount of flame.

The tenfold trumpet, waxing loud

And louder, warns the sinner thence

How may he shun - the lost, the proud,

The law that slays for one offence!

Shall we, with CHRISTIAN, take the path

Which points, as worldlings deem, to loss, -

But leading from impending wrath,

That brings the Pilgrim to the Cross?

O, we may travel folly's road,

Bowed with our burden to despair, -

Yet never, NEVER drop the load,

'Till taught by grace, we leave it there!

How many painful steps he took!

What heavy groanings rent his breast!

'Till casting on "that slight" a look,

At once he found relief and rest.

And thus 'tis ever with the heart

That turns aside to solace, vain;

It cannot with its anguish part,

The guilt and burden must remain.

O God! when finding out the cheat

Of this delusive world below -

We turn away our weary feet,

And to the Cross with weeping go, -

How blest to feel, while gazing, all

That weighed our spirit down before,

Loosed by thy love, forever fall

Where Mercy ne'er shall see it more!

And such was I, and such am I;

Once sorely burdened, now released; -

Who could not from his anguish fly,

Whose efforts but the load increased;

'Till taught by Him to lay it down,

To Him, thought, love and will resign -

I choose my Lord should wear the crown;

What is my will? - O Christ, 'tis thine!

William B. Tappan

New Series 2:27, p. 108

1841.09.04

From the Boston Recorder