Classic Poem

CHAPTER XXV.

F AVOUR against the good,
Not justice they desire,
The Jews to shed a martyr's blood,
The priest, again conspire,
By pride and envy wrought
To slay their guiltless foe;
Such evils (horrible to thought)
From false religion flow!

The ' imperial dignity alone
Festus determined to maintain,
But Christ ordains, by means unknown,
To rescue from bloodthirsty men
The chosen vessel of His grace,
The preacher of His righteousness.

Strangers He secretly inclines,
Beyond what they themselves conceive,
To execute His love's designs
On us who for His glory live;
And till His utmost will is done,
In snares and deaths we must live on.

Behold the man, the prisoner there!
Who now is standing at the bar,
Shall sit with Jesus' chosen ones,
Apostles shining on their thrones.

The saint whom those outrageous Jews
So fiercely vehement accuse,
With His assessors in the sky,
Shall the twelve tribes of Israel try.

The members one with Christ their Head,
So the Almighty hath decreed,
When heaven and earth are pass'd away,
Shall judge the world in that great day!

The angels too, the' accusing fiends,
Sentenced to pain that never ends,
Must then to their just doom submit,
While vengeance seals the burning pit!

The ' unrighteous world with malice blind,
Against the real Christian speak
Evil and lies of every kind,
And madly our destruction seek:
Accused of every wicked deed
Their hatred we repay with love,
" Not guilty " to their slanders plead,
And challenge them the charge to prove.

To envy's general calumny
An answer short, yet full we give,
Stand fast in our integrity,
Sober and just and godly live:
A general answer may suffice, —
Preserved from every moral stain,
Our country, church, and king we prize,
And keep the laws of God and man.

W ILL thou in that bloody place
Before the elders stand,
Tempt the persecuting race,
The sworn assassin band?
There the hellish spirit maintains
His court to after ages known,
There the ancient murderer reigns,
As on his favourite throne.

I FOR no favour sue,
The vilest and the worst
(If such I am) may claim his due;
Condemn; buThear me first:
Me, as the public foe
Whom guilty they presume,
An heretic, or rebel show,
And without mercy doom.

P RISONER of Christ, to death pursued
By priestly hate implacable,
From those who thirsted for his blood
He doth to Nero's self appeal,
More just than those who saints traduce,
More merciful than canker'd Jews .

Far better 't is that righteous men
Into the Heathen's hands should fall,
Than theirs who holy things profane
Themselves the Christian temple call,
And dare as all their own to claim
The church's venerable name.

So a superior order wills
Which Festus cannot see,
While ignorantly he fulfils
The' omnipotent decree.
The secret springs of Providence
Which rule our actions here
Are unperceived by grosser sense,
And but to faith appear.

Beneath the purposes of men
Our God His own conceals,
Conducts the deep mysterious plan,
And governs all the wheels.
The thing His agents least intend,
To do His will they come,
And Jews , combined with Gentiles , send
His messenger to Rome .

'T WAS not the way of Pagan Rome
Unheard the prisoner to condemn,
But Christian Romanists can doom
Men unconvicted to the flame,
Innocent saints in secret kill,
With blood the house of mercy fill.

And shall not, Lord, the Heathens rise
To judge the Christians in that day,
When answering to the martyr's cries,
Thou dost Thy vengeful wrath display,
And pay the murderers their hire,
And cast into eternal fire?

W ITH what indifferent carelessness
He speaks of his expiring God,
Who died for him, and all our race,
And bought our pardon with His blood!
Is it a trivial question then
If Jesus is gone up on high?
Unless our Surety lives again
Festus and all mankind must die.

The rich and great of Festus learn
That Jesus slightingly to name;
They in His death have no concern,
No benefit from His life they claim
Alas, they will not now believe
That every knee to Him shall bend,
And from His mouth their doom receive
To joys or pains that ne'er shall end!

" I MYSELF would hear the man, "
Wilt thou let thine idols go?
Nature urges thee in vain
New or curious things to know;
If from sin thou dost not cease,
Hearing must thy guilt increase.

Let the self-condemn'd and poor
Long forgiveness to receive,
Let the sick desire their cure,
Sinners languish to believe,
Faith will enter through the ear,
Come, and save the souls thaThear.

W ITH vain magnificent excess,
With gold and gems and costly dress
The trophies of their pride,
They charm the captivated crowd;
But can they from the eye of God,
Their shame and vileness hide?

The glare of royal pageantry
Admired by vulgar eyes may be,
And beauty's idle boast,
But cannot inward peace procure,
Or dignify the slaves impure
Of foul, incestuous lust.

Their dazzling state let faith compare
With that poor prisoner at the bar,
Who answers God's designs,
Adorn'd with truth and holiness,
With wisdom meek, and constant grace,
He all their pomp outshines.

Ye that in rich attire delight,
Say, which is the illustrious sight,
And more your eyes detains,
A woman lewd in fair disguise,
Loaded with pearls, and stain'd with vice,
Or holy Paul in chains?

B ROUGHT before kings, he stands,
A greater king than they,
Who o'er sea-sever'd lands
Extend their awful sway,
The saint arraign'd by faith we own
Greater than Caesar on his throne.

A king to God above
He bears His image here,
The majesty of love,
The Saviour's character,
Superior dignity maintains,
And by the cross of Jesus reigns.

No time the prisoner needs
For trial to prepare,
Who Jesu's promise pleads
In faith's unceasing prayer,
And looks for wisdom in that hour
Their common enemies to' o'erpower.

The Lord of all, he knows,
In whom he puts his trust,
Free utterance bestows
And answers in the just;
And hence he on the word relies
Calm as a saint in paradise.

While standing at the bar
He hears the trumpet's call,
Descending in the air,
Beholds the Judge of all,
And sits with Jesus on His seat
And sees the world beneath his feet.

JEWS may clamour for his blood,
Their hate to satisfy,
Louder in the ears of God
The loving Spirit's cry:
While the fiend his death desires,
Nor would another hour reprieve,
Jesus in the saints requires
His minister may live.