W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.
Lazarus
Gerard Moultrie (1829–1885)“T
Such an one stumbleth not, for he seeth the daylight around him:
If a man walk in the night, he stumbleth on in his blindness,
There is no light in him, and this is the cause that he stumbleth.
Our friend Lazarus sleepeth, but I must go to awake him.”
Stones and thorns lie around it, and wearily children of Adam
Turn from the labours of life with its care, with its toil, with its sorrow,
When the bright Angel of God takes post for the night by their pillow.”
“Lazarus sleepeth in death, and we must go and behold him.
I for your sakes am glad that I was not there when he slumbered,
Now will I stablish your faith.”
’Twas thus in mystical warning
Spake the Christ with his own as they gazed on the stream of the Jordan.
They understood him not as he stood on the verge of his Passion,
Waiting till death should weave the crown of thorns for his garland,
Crown which shall bud with the blossoms of life in the valley of Hades,
E’en in the realms of Death, when Death himself is defeated.
Saw before him the shades of Gethsemane; saw the full chalice
Which he must drink alone, ere they could know that in Jesus
Death is the gate of life, the passage to joys immortal.
“Lazarus sleepeth. I go to awake him.” Child of the Virgin,
Speak to us thus? Ah, speak to us thus, when we too shall slumber
After the fever of life in the grave of peaceful awaiting.
Whoso believeth in me, although he were dead, yet he liveth.
Death hath no more dominion o’er him that liveth in Jesus.”
Thus as the years roll on, the voice of the priest in the churchyard
Sweetly greets the departed who come to rest in its bosom,
Bosom pregnant with life—Seed land for the Lord of the harvest,
When he shall send his Angels to bear the sheaves to his garner.
Spake the sweet voice of the Christ, as he stood by the grave of the loved one.
He slept calm and still, and his soul was gone to the mansion
Silent and undisturbed he roamed through the ivory moonlight,
Bathing in light the dim meadows of Asphodel; far in the distance
Saw he the shadowy forms of the patriarch fathers of Hades,
Wearily waiting the summons of him who cometh in triumph,
Breaking the brazen gates and their bars of iron asunder.
Thee alone doth he call; Come forth! Come forth! Come forth! he commands thee;
“Lazarus, come thou forth!”
He feels the grave-clothes around him,
Swathing yet once more the form of his earthly corruption,
As his obedient spirit re-enters the clay of the body.
Life and Death must sit down together at Bethany. Think not
Thy life’s work complete, nor that death again can infold thee
Ere thou hast stood in the darkness beneath the cross of thy Saviour,
Guiding the souls of the recognized dead when the grave shall return them
Here to receive the blessing which quick and dead must inherit,
Under the outspread arms, the bleeding hands of Atonement.”