Classic Poem

PARABLE LXVIII.

The Ax laid to the Root of the Tree—The Lord's Fan.

John thus the multitudes appriz'd
That came of him to be baptiz'd,
O race of vipers! who is he
That warns you future wrath to flee?
Bring fruit that's for repentance meet,
And do not thus each other greet,
‘We from the patriarch Abraham came.’
For this I to you all proclaim,
That God from forth these stones ashore
Can seed to Abraham restore
And now the ax, so oft defy'd,
Is to the trees their root apply'd;
And that on which no fruit is sound,
Is fell'd and burnt upon the ground.
What means, these terrors to avoid,
(The people ask'd) must be employ'd?
He says, Two garments do you wear,
Give one away to him that's bare;
Let him too that abounds with food,
Be thus distributive and good.
Then also to the baptism go
The publicans, and pray to know,
What, master, would you have us do?
‘Exact no more than is your due.’
The soldiers too would understand,
How they should honour his command?
He said, ‘All violence refuse,
‘Nor falsely any man accuse,
‘And be contented with your pay’
Now all th' expecting people stay,
And reason in their hearts, if John
Be Christ?—he answ'ring thereupon
To all in general replies,
With water I indeed baptize,
But one, far mightier than I,
Comes after me, and now is nigh,
The latchet of whose blessed shoes
I am not worthy to unloose;
He shall baptize your inward parts,
Whose ghostly pow'r shall purge your hearts:
In whose right hand the fan is seen,
And he his threshing-floor will clean,
In barns collect the wheat intire,
And burn the chaff with ceaseless fire.