With magnanimity heroic,
He dignifies the noble stoic.
See the illustrious captive stand,
Resolv'd, unshaken, on the strand;
Imploring friends around him weep;
All mourn the hero all would keep.
E'en the stern senators in vain
The patriot would at last detain.
No blessings of domestic life,
Nor darling child, nor tender wife,
He heeds; repels his wife's embrace,
Th' endearments of his infant race.
No sigh he heaves, he drops no tear,
Nought but his oath and country dear.
He knows the tortures which await,
Knows all the horrors of his fate:
By death in direst shapes unmov'd,
He coolly quitted all he lov'd.
Compos'd, as if, hard law-suits past,
He sought a calm retreat at last;
Such calm as crowns Venafrian fields,
Such charms as cool Tarentum yields.
The great Apostle now behold,
A hero cast in Christian mould;
Though learn'd, he will not take his rule
From doctors of the Stoic school.
Religion stops not nature's course,
But turns to other streams its force.
Forewarn'd, he knew where'er he went
'Twas prison, death, or banishment.
'Twas not a vague, uncertain fear ;
God's Spirit show'd him what was near,
Show'd him the woes which must befall,
Not in one country, but in all.
Behold him now encircled stand,
Like the brave Roman on the strand:
A lovelier scene * adorns no page
Than that which now our thoughts engage.
Weeping, his Christian friends surround;
Their tender anguish knows no bound;
Their tears to him their grief impart,
"Mean you to weep and break my heart?"
Hear him with modest grace record
His toils for his forgiving Lord :
Pour out the tender love he feels,
Then to their justice he appeals.
Still to your highest interests true,
Witness, I sought not yours, but you.
This heart, for you my daily care,
Is lifted up in ceaseless prayer;
These hands have oft procur'd my bread,
And labour'd that the poor be fed.
O treasure close in every breast,
Your Saviour's posthumous bequest,
If 'tis a blessing to receive,
Far more a blessing 'tis to give;
Then warns to feed the church of God,
Purchas'd by His redeeming blood.
Thrice bless'd the pastor who, like Paul,
The past with comfort can recall;
His life and doctrine both review
To auditors who feel both true:
Fears not his conduct to declare
Holy, unblameable, sincere.
His preaching catholic; he speaks
Impartially to Jews and Greeks.
No words of doubtful disputation
Allure from his grand end-salvation;
FAITH and REPENTANCE form his theme,
Compendium of the Christian scheme!
No searching truth he e'er conceal'd,
But God's whole counsel still reveal'd.
He speaks: "The woes which must befall,
"My trusting soul shall ne'er appal.
"If I for God my span employ;
"If He my course may crown with joy;'
"If I may spend my painful race,
"To testify redeeming grace;
"No dread of death my soul shall move,
"Secure in Him I serve and love."
His friends, lamenting, crowd the shore, They part, they see his face no more: Their sorrows and his own to cheer, He consecrates the scene with prayer.
NEXT Come the ROMANS; here we trace
The flagrant manners of their race.
Though Nero then Rome's sceptre sway'd,
Yet conscientious Paul obey'd;
Fearless he taught that all should bring
Allegiance to their rightful king.
In this Epistle we may find
The depths and heights of his great mind: Here rhetoric and logic meet
The cause of faith to vindicate.
Paul, when the rich CORINTHIANS came, Found much to praise and much to blame: Luxurious, negligent and proud;
No error was by him allow'd.
As Christian truth should still be told,
The righteous Paul is meekly bold;
And yet such tenderness appears,
His very frowns are mixed with tears!
One glorious truth he here defends,
That truth on which all truth depends;
Labours one doctrine to mantain,
Which if not true, he preach'd in vain;
Vain, too, their faith, which dared not trust
The resurrection of the just.
If they no risen Christ received,
In vain he taught, and they believed.
Then, mounting above space or time,
He soars with energy sublime;
Exhausts on this grand contemplation
High argument, bold illustration!
Created nature see he brings,
Attesting to the truth he sings:
All grain, all flesh, their tribute lend;
The diff'ring stars the truth defend:
If these proclaim God's glory true,
When the material heavens we view,
His glory sun and moon declare,
When on this doctrine brought to bear.
In vain shall death his prey devour,
'Twas sown in weakness, rais'd in power!
Nor slow the process: Heaven is nigh;
Quick, in the twinkling of an eye,
Methinks I see the mould'ring clay
Start into life, wake into day!
Dread sound! 'tis the last trumpet's voice!
Reviv'd, transported, all rejoice.
Hark! heard I not that rapturous cry,
Death swallow'd up in victory?
the ransom'd join to sing,
Jesus, oh, Death! extracts thy sting.
Can Paul, absorb'd in scenes so bright,
Again on earth vouchsafe to light?
To drop, from his exhaustless store,
One parting, pointed moral more?
One added precept deign to press?
He can "Awake to righteousness!
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