Classic Poem

On hallow'd Canvass, see! the Saviour shine;
And lowliest Meekness temper Beams divine.
Unclouded Sapience in his Visage glows;
And from his Eyes benign Effulgence flows;
Resign'd, and calm, the World's Redeemer stands,
And bears, with godlike Patience, impious Bands.
The Hebrew Priest beholds that Face with Fear;
And Pilate 's Heart confess'd a God was there!
No dread like this disturbs our Pontiff's Soul;
No conscious Fears his rising Joys controul;
Wrapt in the Theme divine, his Bosom swells,
And on the sacred Scene, delighted, dwells.
What pure Emotions his warm Soul expand,
When Jesus stretches his appealing Hand!
The spotless Victim self-devoted dies,
Whilst Angels wast th' eternal Sacrifice.
The glorious Groupe elates his raptur'd Mind,
By Faith inflam'd, and Love of Humankind.
The glorious Groupe elates his raptur'd Mind,
By Faith inflam'd, and Love of Humankind.

Hail, pious Pastor! thine's th' exalted Rock,
The Crook is thine, and thine the sacred Flock:
O'er barren Cliffs thy watchful Care extends;
On Sun-burn'd Heaths the naked Fold defends.
Beneath thy genial Eye new Flow'rs shall grow,
From gushing Rocks the limpid Springs shall flow:
Ten thousand Hills, see! crown'd with rich Increase,
Through vocal Vales the Lambs shall sport in Peace:
Repuls'd by thee, the Wolf shall prowl in vain:
Nor shall the wily Fox infest the Plain.
No more misled the wand'ring Flock shall stray,
To ambush'd Snares, and erring Guides, a Prey:
Within one widening Pale, th' increasing Sheep
Unharm'd shall feed by Day, secure by Night shall sleep.