Image the Seventh: The Church asking the Prayers of her Children

Lift up thy voice, get up unto the mountain,
Say unto Sion, from thy trance awaken,
Thy sea goes forth, in every land a fountain
Springs forth to thee ! O now no more forsaken.
Thy glory the destroyer hath overtaken ;
City of God, great things of thee are spoken !
Death's kingdom to its centre hath been shaken,
All nations have discern'd the glorious token.
Lift up thy mountain voice, the spell of death is broken !

O happy vision, which an Angel sings,
Like some sweet lark hid in a cloud of rays.
Till all around a little Heaven she brings ;
In widening circles far the music strays.
And list'ning Silence echoes back the praise !
Blessed is he that loveth thee, O Sion !
Blessed is he that hastens thy good days,
Who toils to heal thy wounds, and bind in one.
Pouring in oil and wine, the spirit's benison.

Makers of peace the children of our God ! '
Ye are the generation whom the skies,
And they who Heavens immortal floor have trod.
Admit into their sweet societies ;
Such share their ministries ; such Angels prize ;
Saints in their beds of rest with them rejoice.
And join with them their prayers and charities,
Till Heaven itself shall gladden at their voice ;
Love is their wisdom, Love their everlasting choice.

Love is that sweet embalming of great price
Which came on our High-Priest, and made Him meet
To be the all-atoning Sacrifice.
It came upon His head, went to His feet,
And to His clothing's skirts, and made them sweet
"With the high savour of immortal love.
Love is the oil of the great Paraclete,
Which sweetens earth below, and Heaven above,
Till e'en the meanest child the fragrant power shall prove.

But how shall we promote thee, Love divine ?
How spread abroad thy charities aright.
Or plead thy cause with any arms but thine ?
Save drinking first of thee, thou blessed might !
He who attaineth love attaineth light.
But fire that would enlighten first must burn ;
Christ's love alone His children can unite,
The stars of night on their own courses turn.
But all from the great Sun their life and glories earn.

Great tabernacle of immortal Love,
From highest heights descending all unseen.
To hallow earth and fill the Heavens above ;
What envious clouds do mar thy shape serene ?
Art thou indeed that sky-descended Queen ?
How to the ground is cast thy glorious crown ?
"Where the commanding grace and matchless mien?
Thy towers are spoil'd, thy hedges broken down,
And thou, O Vine of Heaven, with poisonous weeds o'ergrown.

O Lord, Who, as Thy church's-church's holy token,
Thy seamless coat upon that dreadful morn,
'Mid soldiers' violent hands didst keep unbroken ;
Is this Thy robe in thousand pieces torn ?
Is this the healing garment Thou hast worn ?
Is this Thy Body which Divine control
Unbroken kept, though pierc'd by many a thorn.
Which Joseph wrapt in the embalming stole.
Entire as Thou must dwell in the believing soul ?

O rude and ruthless hands, to rend in twain
Christ's robe, which e'en the murd'rous soldiers spared ;
To glory in the deed, and deem it gain !
Ye too with sacrilegious spoilers shared.
Leaving her broken, desolate, and bared ;
Then fiends rejoiced, and in that boasted name
They saw your house divided, strength impaired ;
And still ye boast that freedom without shame, —
Your bond is Discord's name, your glory sinful blame.

And thou, O bound by a mysterious spell,
Who on thy seven-fold hill dost still remain.
In stern impenitence unchangeable,
And in thine attitude of boundless reign
Binding thyself around as with a chain.
Combining earth with Heaven in Roman mood,
Are thy celestial garments free from stain ?
Where art thou seen the mirror of all good ?
Say, in what land are not thy footsteps mark'd with blood !

How o'er thee weeps the mother of thy Lord
Herself enthroned in God's own house to find,
E'en as the Spouse of the unfailing Word : —
Yea, in the temples of the soul enshrin'd.
And like an idol imag'd in the mind,
Till God's pure worship there can find no place !
O burst thy chain, to penitence resign'd.
And strive with us that we may find such grace
Again to be all one, and see God's holy face !

For if we were all one, a temple meet,
We should behold His love, whose beams so blight
Would then transform us to His holy seat :
But while Rome, unrepenting, boasts her light.
She is encompass'd with a twofold night ;
To seek her is to seek a double curse ;
'Tis first disloyalty which blinds the sight,
'Tis then with blinded hands to choose the worse :
Her very boast of light her judgment doth rehearsed
"Whate'er in restless lust for things beyond
My fancies would entice, and make me wise
To lure me on to that mysterious bond, —
"Where Truth's celestial form is wreathed with lies.
And choked and hid in foul idolatries, —
Though knit to my heart's core through every sense,
Associate with all dear to my sad eyes,
Though my heart bleed, yet will I pluck it thence,
Ere my youth's guide I leave — my guardian Providence.

How in each breast shall Peace celestial dwell ?
It hath no way, it needs no other art,
No man or Angel hath devis'd a spell,
Save seeking God with undiVided heart ?
Then her own peace Obedience shall impart :
Peace, the surpassing music of the skies.
Turns all to love, love is her Heavenly mart,
Love tunes the ears aright, looks from the eyes.
And bathes all things around with her own harmonies.

So with the Church by endless discords riven,
One way alone her union can restore.
And gain the blessing to that union given,
Obedience of a spirit meek and poor,
And Christ Himself the everlasting Door :
Obedience to the eyes is Heavenly light,
Struck by whose rays self-seeking is no more,
Then schisms and heresies shall hide in night.
And one harmonious bond discordant souls unite.

It was for this of old Apostles taught,
It was for this that Martyrs shed their blood,
It was for this that Saints have marvels wrought,
It was for this that Confessors have stood.
It was for this that Virgins meek and good.
And holy men in cells and deserts prayed ;
That Love's great secret might be understood, —
That all with Christ's one robe might be arrayed, —
And 'neath one Shepherd all one fold celestial made.

They deem'd one narrow road the way to Heaven,
But manifold the paths that lead to Hell,
And manifold the shapes to wand'ring given ; —
One only robe of Christ, one only spell
Unbroken, and of life one saving well.
But who shall now discern the Heavenly Bride ?
And who shall now Truth's royal signet tell ?
O Truth, thyself within my soul abide.
Lead me through tangled ways, and be thyself my guide !

Yea, we believe her glorious yet within,
"With beauty undiscern'd by mortal eye.
Yet seen in Heaven. Her glories shall begin
To come serenely forth, when earth and sky.
Like morning mists which shroud her, shall pass by ;
Then like the radiant Sun on either hand,
With beauty clothed and immortality.
She shall break brightly forth at God's command.
And filling earth and Heaven a living temple stand.

What if her glory meet not mortal sight ; —
"Who on the burning orb of Heaven can gaze ?
Clothed with the solar robe of Christ's own light,
Too pure for mortal eyes her living blaze,
Too bright her incommunicable rays !
Though strifes and sorrows, dark and manifold,
Encompass her with clouds ; in her meek ways.
She walks within that City paved with gold.
Whose lustre is too fair for sinners to behold.

Who can discern the beauty of that power,
When endless life within the soul is born,
When glistening in the fresh Baptismal shower
Dawns on the soul the everlasting Morn,
And rainbow-hues her earthly clouds adorn ?
There is no comeliness that we desire,
Though Christ's long promis'd glory she hath worn,
Nor can our eyes perceive His robe of fire.
Which wraps each soul that stands in His celestial choir.

She sits, — Heavens Bride, but in an evil world.
And sore en"environed by unnumber'd foes,
With wiles and weapons stern against her hurl'd ;
The Child of life, death's shades around her close ;
The Crown of joy amid o'erwhelming woes :
Her right-hand holds the keys of death and life.
And calm she sits in undisturb'd repose,
But all around with hostile arms are rife,
And foes of earth and hell are arming for the strife.

Satan with eager unremitting grasp
Struggles to wrest the world from her blest fold.
And thrusts the Cross from him his own to clasp ;
Now plies with stealth, and now with aspect bold,
Whatever means his kingdom may uphold ;
But most he strives to bury truth with lies,
Or paint her holy visage dark and cold.
Stirring a hell-born brood of calumnies.
To hide her genial eye, and poison all the skies.

Now he draws thousands from the Christian name.
Banded in arms and arts of Mahomet ;
Now Puritanic fevers fans to flame.
To break down thrones and altars fiercely set ;
Now Heresies and Schisms their arrows whet,
And turf unhallow'd builds self-chosen shrines ;
Now close he hides to draw more sure his net.
Yet still she lives, and heeds not, nor repines.
But on her saviour's breast her holy head reclines.

Thus have I often seen a vernal rose,
Which 'mid the lowering storms untouch'd appears.
Though hostile lances all around her close,
Yet o'er the palisade of armed spears,
Her loveliness unharm'd its beauty rears.
And day by day expanding drinks the shower :
E'en so unfolding to the eternal years
The Church discloses her ethereal flower.
The many-folded Heavens of her unfading bower.

All things which here are cast in beauty's mould,
Awful or fair, of soul-entrancing power,
Speak but the things of her celestial fold.
Heart-stirring love in youth's first blooming hour,
Gazing intense on beauty's short-liv'd flower.
Speaks but the love of that immortal Bride,
And beauty, which is her resplendent dower :
Riches speak treasures which with her abide,
And Fame th' unerring Praise which God sets by her side.

The gems in Ocean's breast, and living spars
Deep hid in Earth's dark bowels far below.
Shall pave her wond'rous pathway to the stars ;
The fairest hues on Eve or Morning's brow
Are shadows of her glory ; Heaven's bright bow
The emblem of her covenant sign ;
Birds' songs are Angels' voices, as they go
Bearing their aid to weary souls that pine ;
All blessings are but streams from her life-giving shrine.

I saw, or dream'd I saw, her awful form,
And said, ' If thou art girt with sure repose,
Thyself calm as the !Moon within the storm,
"Why do these ills thy very life enclose.
And thus thy inmost being blend with woes ?
Thy friends — thy very household — peace will hold
With the bad world, are chosen by thy foes.
Thy hallow'd offices are given for gold,
Or worse than given for gold, to thine own foes are sold : —
" Their price to fight against thee — that meek men
Doubt if they can believe the impress thine,
Which comes in shape so questionable, when
The rust so thickly hath o'erlaid the sign.
Although beneath the Image be divine."
She answer'd, " Troubled spirit, peace, be still !
I, in the calm unearthly, dwell with mine.
And thou must come to me, — thence judge of ill.
Not in that troubled world where cares thy fancy fill.

" Couldst thou but see as from a Heavenly place,
Calm as the moon, while ye are bow'd to sense.
And wrapp'd in joys and sorrows ; could ye trace
How all are mov'd by sweetest providence,
Educing good from evil : forming thence
A noiseless temple, where the living stones
Are built up one by one ! While the offence
Darkens your hearts, and your frail spirit groans.
Then is the time when God builds up His chosen ones.

" Come thou to me into that moonlight calm,
Where I abide in the tempestuous night.
And judge therein of all things." " Sweet as balm
Thy words," I cried, " for cares my soul deform ;
Then take me 'neath thy mantle of calm light.
That I may strive for thee ; nor yet dark care
Sadden my spirit, nor contentions blight."
" Thy love they may but sweeten," smiling fair
She answer'd, " to this calm the door is fervent prayer.

" Thy prayers I ask, I ask thy spirit clean,
And pure thy hands, that thou in prayer below
Mayst lift them up for me in thought serene.
I ask thy prayers, ah, little do ye know
How much by prayer one fervent soul may throw
Into the scale where kingdoms now are weigh'd :
Cleanse thou for this thine heart ; for this thy brow
Bow down to earth ; and seek the lonely shade.
That thou in needful hours mayst lend the Church thine aid.

" I ask thy prayers — thy earnest prayers I need —
What, should I ask thy life ! for me His Bride
The Lord of Life Himself did dying bleed.
And when He died for me for thee He died.
And thou with me wast taken from His side ;
What then if I thy dying life demand,
Live thou for me, in prayer for me abide ;
I bear the Keys to the eternal strand,
And thou the Book of Life receivest at my hand.

"Who prays for me doth for his brethren pray ;
And on the wings of his own charities
He shall be borne toward Heaven, in thoughts that sway
His better Life, — by prayer itself made wise :
His very words will come back from the skies
Laden with thoughts of love ; and o'er the cloud
Of earth-born fears his spirit will arise :
He shall look calmly through the stormy crowd,
And e'en to fight for God shall be to him allow'd.

" And what though all the world be leagu'd around,
The holy Intercessor never dies.
And by His bleeding brow and flowing wound.
Love turns to you her supplicating eyes.
Not to forget His dying charities.
But join your prayers with His ; such incense, sent
From contrite hearts, shall join His sacrifice ;
Ere life, the time which unto prayer is lent.
Or love, which is the life of prayer itself, be spent."