Transcriber's Note
The cover image was modified to remove a label, and to add the title and author text. The modified image is placed in the public domain.
A
BOOK
OF
CHRISTIAN SONNETS.
BY WILLIAM ALLEN, D. D.,
Late President of Bowdoin College; Author of the American Biographical Dictionary, and of Wunnissoo or the Vale of Hoosatunnuk a Poem.
NORTHAMPTON:
PUBLISHED BY BRIDGMAN & CHILDS.
1860.
Metcalf & Company, Printers,
Northampton.
PREFACE.
For some remarks on the nature and history of the Sonnet and its peculiar excellence, as exemplified by Milton, the reader is referred to the Notes at the close of this book. The Author regards it as by its fixed laws and its structure the very best form of poetry for one short, complete, meditative lesson. A collection of such distinct, separate little poems,—mostly written within a recent period,—and not mingled with other forms of poetry,—constitutes this little volume.
The notes annexed are historical and illustrative, elucidatory of what from the necessary brevity of the verse might be otherwise left obscure, or such as seemed to be required by the unevasible claims and the infinite worth of the revealed Christian truth, which makes the texture of these sonnets.
While Petrarch, the inventor of the Sonetto, Spenser, Shakespeare, Wordsworth, and other foreign poets have written a multitude of sonnets, it is to the author a matter of surprise, that not more than half a dozen sonnets—within his knowledge—have ever been sent forth by any one of our poets; so that this may be regarded as the first book of American Sonnets ever published.
An old man, the tenant for a year past of a sick chamber, who from early life has been a student and cultivator of poetry, has found not a little pleasure in such musings, as he now offers to the public. His meditations, it may well be supposed, have not been of fictitious scenes. Aware of his liableness at any moment to be summoned away from this world,—which to his eye is filled with beauty mingled indeed with deformity,—into a world of undefaced loveliness and eternal glory, he could not have excused himself, if he had employed the precarious time lent to him in drawing idle, uninstructive, unprofitable pictures; but his mind has been filled with intense thoughts on God's pure, unchanging, soul-saving Truth; and he has endeavored to give true sketches, however faint and feeble, of divine and eternal realities not unworthy of the contemplation nor unfit to awaken the affections of rational, immortal men. The uninterrupted study of God's Word for 50 or 60 years may be his apology for declaring what in his judgment are plainly and indubitably some of the great truths of that Word. But he earnestly asks the reader to search the Scriptures with his own eyes. What God has said is true.
Northampton, Dec. 19, 1859
CONTENTS.
| Sonnet | Page | |
|---|---|---|
| [1.] | On Washington, | [9] |
| [2.] | The Stars, | [10] |
| [3.] | Last Wish of Wm. H. Prescott, | [10] |
| [4.] | On War, | [11] |
| [5.] | Truth's Testimony of Christ, | [11] |
| [6.] | Corrupted Youth, | [12] |
| [7.] | Penitence, | [12] |
| [8.] | God's Omnipresence. Psalm 139, | [13] |
| [9.] | The Prometheus Chained of Aeschylus, | [13] |
| [10.] | On Tyndale, the Martyr, | [14] |
| [11.] | Miserable Old Age, | [14] |
| [12.] | Idols. Psalm 135, | [15] |
| [13.] | To four Presidents alive. 1826, | [15] |
| [14.] | The Way of Salvation, | [16] |
| [15.] | The Overthrow of Popery, | [16] |
| [16.] | The Fall of Babylon, | [17] |
| [17.] | The Scoffers at the Bible, | [17] |
| [18.] | Prayer, | [18] |
| [19.] | Christ's Table, | [18] |
| [20.] | Death. Job 14, | [19] |
| [21.] | The Storm on the Lake, | [19] |
| [22.] | On Jacques Balmat, | [20] |
| [23.] | Controversy, | [20] |
| [24.] | The Sabbath, | [21] |
| [25.] | The Widow's Son Raised, | [21] |
| [26.] | Thanksgiving-Day, 1859, | [22] |
| [27.] | The Lord my Shepherd, | [22] |
| [28.] | Christ's Resurrection, | [23] |
| [29.] | Darkness until Heavenly Light, | [23] |
| [30.] | Maria Malleville Allen, | [24] |
| [31.] | Prayer for Mercy, | [24] |
| [32.] | The Lost Child, | [25] |
| [33.] | Mexican Idol, | [25] |
| [34.] | God our Safety. Psalm 91, | [26] |
| [35.] | The Believer Encouraged, | [26] |
| [36.] | On Rev. Dr. John Codman, | [27] |
| [37.] | Northampton Grave-Yard, | [27] |
| [38.] | The Lord's Prayer, | [28] |
| [39.] | Praise to God. Ps. 148, | [28] |
| [40.] | On my Father, Rev. T. Allen, | [29] |
| [41.] | Time's End. Rev. 10, | [29] |
| [42.] | Written in a Thunder-Storm, | [30] |
| [43.] | Impiety, | [30] |
| [44.] | On the Death of my Daughter, | [31] |
| [45.] | The Last Day of the Year, | [31] |
| [46.] | Transfiguration of Christ, | [32] |
| [47.] | Sleepers in the Grave-Yard, | [32] |
| [48.] | Song of the Redeemed. Rev. 7, | [33] |
| [49.] | Nature Reproved, | [33] |
| [50.] | Removal of Severe Illness, | [34] |
| [51.] | God Man's All-Sufficient Good, | [34] |
| [52.] | The Death of Rev. Dr. I. Nichols, | [35] |
| [53.] | The Voice of Nature to Poets, | [35] |
| [54.] | The Cross and Crown, | [36] |
| [55.] | Dying I am Blest, | [36] |
| [56.] | Compact on Board the Mayflower, | [37] |
| [57.] | To Jesus Christ, God's Son, | [37] |
| [58.] | To Dr. Thomson, Missionary, | [38] |
| [59.] | Happy Old Age, | [38] |
| [60.] | Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock, | [39] |
| [61.] | No Sorrow in Death, | [39] |
| [62.] | On John Robinson, | [40] |
| [63.] | Sudden Sickness. 1845, | [40] |
| [64.] | On Truth, | [41] |
| [65.] | Two Views of Death, | [41] |
| [66.] | God's Marvellous Works. Ps. 104, | [42] |
| [67.] | The last Words of a Minister, | [42] |
| [68.] | Plymouth Monument laid, 1859, | [43] |
| [69.] | Effect of Death on Man, | [43] |
| [70.] | Christmas, | [44] |
| [71.] | New Year's Day, 1859, | [44] |
| [72.] | Donati's Comet, 1858, | [45] |
| [73.] | Execution for Murder, 1630, | [45] |
| [74.] | Oneness with God. John 17, | [46] |
| [75.] | My Birth Day, Jan. 2, 1859, | [46] |
| [76.] | God and his Son, | [47] |
| [77.] | On Martyrs, | [47] |
| [78.] | To Rev. Dr. Spring, New York, | [48] |
| [79.] | Perseverance in Christ's Service, | [48] |
| [80.] | Glorying in the Cross, | [49] |
| [81.] | Man without Revelation, | [49] |
| [82.] | God is One, | [50] |
| [83.] | What is it to die? | [50] |
| [84.] | Churches of Piedmont, | [51] |
| [85.] | The Lord's Supper, | [51] |
| [86.] | Occom, the Indian Preacher, | [52] |
| [87.] | My Sermon, July, 1851, | [52] |
| [88.] | National Convulsions, | [53] |
| [89.] | Psalm VIII., | [53] |
| [90.] | To my Native Town, | [54] |
| [91.] | To Sarah Anna Hopkins, | [54] |
| [92.] | To Mrs. Douglass in jail, | [55] |
| [93.] | Ready for Either, | [55] |
| [94.] | To Miss Hannah Lyman, Montreal, | [56] |
| [95.] | Visit to Pontoosuc or Pittsfield, | [56] |
| [96.] | Company of Old Men, | [57] |
| [97.] | Joy in a Dying Hour, | [57] |
| [98.] | Niagara Falls, | [58] |
| [99.] | Justification by Faith, | [58] |
| [100.] | Universal Triumph of the Gospel, | [59] |
A BOOK OF CHRISTIAN SONNETS.
1. ON WASHINGTON. [(notes)]
Great Washington! Mount Vernon's shade were naught,
Except as close allied to thine own name;
And what but noblest virtues without blame
Have all the lustre of thy glory wrought?
Our country's chief in freedom's battle fought,
Thy sword laid down in triumph's loud acclaim;
Then "First in peace," our nation's good thine aim,
To Rulers many a lesson thou hast taught.
The model patriot thou, thy life unstain'd;
A rev'rent worshipper of God, we see
Thine end was peace; one noble act remain'd,—
Thy dying voice said to thy slaves, "Be Free!"—
With no dear son, each Freeman is thy Son,
And thou his Father lov'd, Great Washington!
2. THE STARS. [(notes)]
In the sweet silence of a cloudless night
The glory-studded firmament on high
With wonder overwhelms my gazing eye,
Lost in the wilderness of worlds of light.
Around these suns do systems wheel their flight,
All pure and spotless as the crystal sky,
Th' abodes of bliss serene without a sigh,
Where mists and clouds ne'er rise nor storms affright?
O, for an angel's wings to fly away
From this low world of sin, and woe, and care,
And gain those orbs of purity and love!
Wish not for angel's wings: thy God obey,
And soon his grace thy ransom'd soul will bear
Up to his own more glorious throne above!
3. LAST WISH OF WM. H. PRESCOTT. [(notes)]
Still beautiful in this thy rest so deep,
Thy final wish fulfill'd, we see thy face
Calm as in life, with not a marring trace
Of the swift blow, which calls thy friends to weep.
What hosts of mighty dead around thee keep
On these rich-loaded shelves their silent place?—
"Farewell, companions lov'd; like your's my race
Is run; tomorrow in the ground I sleep."—
What would he teach us, living, by this scene?—
Books! books! are earth's invaluable lights;
Treasures of truth, the richest gifts terrene,
Left by fled spirits in their upward flights!
And what does man demand, in age and youth,
But heav'n-descended, heav'nward-guiding Truth?
4. ON WAR. [(notes)]
"Thou shalt not kill,"—the Almighty God hath said.
Then, Mighty Kings! who glory in your shame
And swim in blood to gain a hero's name,
What awful doom—with all your greatness fled—
When, rising with your subjects from the dead,
Ye stand in judgment? What will then be fame?
And will not fiery courage be quite tame;—
On ev'ry side th' Almighty's terrors spread?
O, Living Monarchs! within reach of grace,
Of love and mercy from the throne of God,
Forgiveness may ye find, and faith t' embrace
The offer'd pardon through redeeming blood;
Then to the world great Benefactors prove,
Your pride exchang'd for happy subjects' love!
5. TRUTH'S TESTIMONY OF CHRIST. [(notes)]
Truth to the earth came down from heav'n above,
Cloth'd in celestial beauty to the eye,
Willing to see; man's guide to God on high.
Her voice is voice of sweetness and of love,
Of pow'r all feelings of the soul to move.
When she but speaks, all wild'ring phantoms fly,
Each cheat, and fraud, and vile, illusive lie,
Which in our murky air around thick rove.
She speaks of Him, who ere the earth was made
Was God's own Son in heav'nly glory bright;
Yet dwelt with man in mortal flesh array'd,
Redeemer blest! of this dark world the light;—
Whose death by cruel nails our life has won,
Whose cross for us a bright, immortal crown.
6. CORRUPTED YOUTH.
I've seen the morning sweet, serene, and bright,
Cheer'd by th' effulgence of the orb of day,
And ev'ry object drest in pure array;
But soon the splendor chang'd to dismal night.
Dark clouds and raging storms spread round affright,
While lightnings gleam, and thunders bring dismay.
And such too oft is Youth: thoughtless and gay,
With ev'ry charm to bless th' admiring sight.
But soon how chang'd! The face is mark'd with care,
The furious passions cast away control,
And outrag'd conscience shakes a glist'ning dart.
Poor Youth! Would'st thou the marred scene repair,
The sway of holy laws must guide thy soul,
And love, and hope, and faith must fill thy heart.
7. PENITENCE.
Heard ye the anguish of that broken sigh,
Bursting from wretched sinner's smitten heart?
Or did ye mark the contrite tears, which start
In pearly drops from that uplifted eye?
Blest is that groan; 'tis heard by him on high,
Whose grace from prostrate soul will ne'er depart,
Whose tender love will soothe the mental smart,
And to Himself bring humble aliens nigh.
Blest are those tears;—with brighter ray they shine,
Than costliest gem, which tyrant's crown adorns,
When beaming on the gaze of subject throngs.
The grief of penitence wakes bliss divine
Before His throne, who bore the crown of thorns,
And Angels' harps resound with rapt'rous songs!
8. God's omnipresence. Psalm 139.
O, whither from thy Spirit shall I go?
Or whither from thine eye shall I repair?
Thou, Lord, if I ascend to heav'n, art there;
And there, if I lie down in grave below:
Or if the wings of morning on me grow,
And with the speed of light I pierce the air
And find the shores, which India's billows wear,—
Ev'n there thy presence will around me flow.—
If I should say,—"night's veil will me conceal;"
Yet in thy view the darkness shall be light,
And deepest gloom will shine like flood of day.—
Thy presence, Lord, then let me ever feel
Each budding, sinful aim and thought to blight,
And urge to deeds of holy, blest array.
9. THE PROMETHEUS CHAINED OF AESCHYLUS.
'Tis piteous tale, in Grecian numbers told,—
Prometheus chain'd by Vulcan to a rock;
Expos'd aloft to ev'ry tempest's shock,
To burning sun, and winter's shiv'ring cold:
And all his woe, as minstrel doth unfold,
From love to man, whom other gods would mock.
For man his hands Jove's treasury unlock;
The stolen fire he breathes on man's dull mould.
O, could this Bard have liv'd in Christian days,
And seen our blessed Lord nail'd to the tree,
Expos'd, from love to man, to scorn and woe;
He would have sung of Jesus; and his lays
Would shame our empty, soulless minstrelsy,
Whose strains in praise of Jesus never flow!
10. ON TYNDALE, THE MARTYR. [(notes)]
Tyndale! Blest martyr to the truth and right,
Who in thy zeal didst cause, with labor long,
God's word to shine out in thy native tongue,
In killing thee the men, who to the light
Darkness prefer, would shroud the world in night.
Vain hope! for on the day of this great wrong
The sun of truth arose on England's throng
With not a cloud t' obscure its splendor bright.
What though the men of Rome did strangle thee,
Then burn thy body at the stake? Thy name
Is honor'd in the earth, while infamy
Attends thy foes, and bigots blush with shame.
But more than this: in the last day God's Son
Will give the glorious crown, which thou hast won!
11. MISERABLE OLD AGE.
'Tis weary through the race of life to run,
Expos'd to noon-tide heat and chilly night,
Mid storms, that well the boldest may affright,
When clouds with lightnings arm'd obscure the sun.
Our cares are vain; the good is never won;
Sweet joys are fleeting as the meteor's light;
Unfix'd as shadows are our hopes most bright;
And toil of years is toil but just begun.
Backward from long ascent we turn the eye,
If haply the review may cheer the heart:
The graves of those we love heave through the way.
Forward we gaze: thick mists obstruct the sky,
But precipice is near, from which we start;
Yet naught remains but down to slide and die!
12. Idols. Psalm 135.
The heathen gods are gods of yellow gold,
Of shining silver, or perchance of wood,—
Moulded in various shapes, as moulder would,
And for large sums to godless sinners sold.
These gods have mouths, but speak not;—that were bold:—
Eyes have they, but they see not—as eyes should;—
Ears have they, but they hear not—yet are wooed;
They breathe not through their throat—may it be told?
Nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought, nor sense have they,
Who to these idol-gods their homage give,
And pray for succor to a stubborn block.
We pity such strange folly—as we may;—
But if we worship idols, though they live,
Do we not, too, the one Jehovah mock?
13. TO 4 PRESIDENTS ALIVE. 1826. [(notes)]
Ye've run a race of glory here below,
Such as no rolls of hist'ry can display;—
Have held o'er Freedom's land a gentle sway,
Have seen its prosp'rous tide unceasing flow,
And now, retir'd, a welcome peace ye know.
Methinks ye calmly smile,—as well ye may,—
At those, who mingle in the public fray,
O'erwhelm'd by cares, that no repose allow.
Ye've run your race of honor, and full soon
The darkness of the grave will close the scene;
And after death your Judge will weigh your ways.
My heart desires for you the blessed boon,
That, ransom'd by the blood outpour'd for sin,
Ye run th' immortal race of heav'nly praise!
14. THE WAY OF SALVATION.
If we with conscious guilt and humble shame
Our sins confess to God and deep deplore,
Resolv'd his holy laws to break no more,
For pardon trusting in his Son's great name,
Whose wondrous love brought him to bear our blame;
Then let a rush of troubles whelm us o'er,
As stormful billows dash upon the shore,—
E'n dying, we in peace may each exclaim,—
"My spirit into life doth die away,
And my poor body shall now rest in hope,
Awaiting with the sav'd the rising day,
When at the trumpet's blast each grave shall ope,
And in the likeness of Christ's body I
Shall share in glory endless in the sky!"
15. THE OVERTHROW OF POPERY.
An angel rais'd a stone as millstone great,
And cast it in the sea, and loudly cried—
"Thus shall great Bab'lon perish in her pride,
No fragment left of her once glorious state!"
Down sank the stone beneath the wave; when straight
The earth, by guilt o'erburden'd, heav'd her side,
And down the city fell in ruin wide,
And naught was seen of walls, that tower'd so late.
"Alas, that city great!" Cry mighty kings,
Whose sceptres had sustain'd her bigot sway,
While she by sorc'ries propp'd their tyrant throne.
While swells her smoke, as of burnt-offerings,
Standing afar, through fear, they mournful say—
"Alas! that mighty city, Babylon!"
16. THE FALL OF BABYLON. [(notes)]
Her shorn, and cowl'd, and mitred merchants weep,
Since perishes with her their gainful trade
Of long indulgencies, for silver weigh'd,
Pledg'd from sad purgatory souls to keep,—
Of holy water, oil, and relics cheap,
As blood, tears, rags, and bones in grave-yard laid,
Of crosses, roods, and forms for Mary made,
Of beads and bulls, and various wares a heap;
Of idols, masses, pray'rs, and souls of men,
By sale of which they liv'd in indolence,
And laugh'd while their poor cred'lous dupes did groan.
Seeing her smoke afar, they cry again,—
"Alas for all her lost magnificence!
Fall'n is that proud, great city, Babylon!"
17. THE SCOFFERS AT THE BIBLE. [(notes)]
If God is holy Governor supreme,
And star-born, earth-born subjects must obey,
Or bear the Judge's sentence as they may;—
If they, endow'd with intellect's bright gleam,
Free-will, and conscience, see God's Truth outstream,
Yet scoff, instead of trembling with dismay,
And infidels defiant prove; the day
Is nigh, when Christ will say—(it is no dream,