TRIBUNAL OF THE AREOPAGUS.
LISTEN, that voice! upon the hill of Mars, Rolling in bolder thunders, than e'er pealed From lips that shook the Macedonian throne; Behold his dauntless outstretched arm, his face Illumed of heaven :-he knoweth not the fear Of man, of principalities, of powers. The Stoic's moveless frown; the vacant stare Of Epicurus' herd; the scowl and gnash malign Of Superstition, stopping both her ears;
The Areopagite tribunal dread,
From whence the doom of SOCRATES was uttered;
This hostile throng dismays him not; he seems,
As if no worldly object could inspire A terror in his soul;-as if the vision,
Which, when he journeyed to Damascus, shone From heaven, still swam before his eyes, Out-dazzling all things earthly; as if the voice, That spake from out the effulgence, ever rang Within his ear, inspiring him with words, Burning, majestic, lofty, as his theme,- The resurrection, and the life to come.
THE Judge ascended to the judgment-seat. Amid a gleam of spears the Apostle stood. Dauntless, he forward came; and looked around, And raised his voice, at first, in accents low, Yet clear; a whisper spread among the throng:- So when the thunder mutters, still the breeze Is heard, at times, to sigh; but when the peal, Tremendous, louder rolls, a silence dead Succeeds each pause,-moveless the aspen leaf. Thus fixed, and motionless, the listening band Of soldiers forward leaned, as from the man, Inspired of God, truth's awful thunders rolled. No more he feels, upon his high raised arm,
The ponderous chain, than does the playful child The bracelet, formed of many a flowery link. Heedless of self, forgetful that his life Is now to be defended by his words,
He only thinks of doing good to them Who seek his life; and, while he reasons high Of justice, temperance, and the life to come,
The Judge shrinks trembling at the prisoner's voice.
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