Classic Poem

PARABLE II.

The Kingdom of Heaven compared unto a Man who sowed good Seed in his Field.

Christ's reign (again the Lord began)
Is liken'd to a certain man,
Who plow'd in hope, and sow'd his field
With seed most promising to yield
But in the night his foe arose,
What time mankind indulg'd repose,
And having sown amongst the corn
Some tares, made off before the morn.
But when the blade grew up and stood
Bidding for harvest rank and good,
Then too the tares, with heads uprear'd,
Amongst the goodly crop appear'd.
His servants therefore came to know—
‘Good seed, my Lord, didst thou not sow?
‘Thy land what ails it, that it bears
‘A mingled crop of wheat and tares?’
It is an enemy, he said,
Has this adult'rous mixture made
Then did his men for licence plead
The bad from out the good to weed.
But he rejoin'd, ‘My children, nay,
‘Lest while the tares ye take away,
‘Ye gather too the wheat with them,
‘And mar my harvest ear and stem
‘Stay till the season is at hand,
‘When I my reapers shall command,
‘First those vile tares in bundles bind,
‘And be they to the flames consign'd:
‘But that good wheat collect with care,
‘And to my granary repair.’—
He spake—the multitude retired;
Then by the Twelve he was desir'd
The secret meaning to unfold
In all, that of the tares, he told
He answers—it is Christ alone
By whom the genuine seed is sown:
The field's the world, the genuine seed
Are God's true heirs in word and deed
By tares amongst the corn, you trace
The prince of darkness and his race
The harvest is the last event;
By reapers are the Angels meant
The tares into the flames are cast—
So must it needs be at the last.
The Son of man his host shall send
To take out all things that offend,
The race of base injurious men,
And hurl them to the infernal den:
There in the realms of death and pain
They wail and gnash their teeth in vain.
Then shall the righteous seed display
Their glory like the blaze of day,
And in their Father's realm appear—
Ye, that have ears for doctrine, hear.