Poems (Hale)/Lazarus
LAZARUS.
He sleeps.Is there no voice to rouse the silent dust,And bid the springs of life flow gently on?Will not a sister's pleading break that rest?No, for the stern, relentless hand of deathHas stamped his impress on the placid brow.The heart is cold whose warm affection blessedThe helpless ones who lived in him alone,To whom he was their all.
To whom he was their all.But there is OneWhose glance is mercy, and whose voice is might;Yea, who can render to the mourner backThe tender object that has shared his love. He loved that sleeping one; his memoryWas hallowed in his heart by many a deedOf kindness to himself, and, at the callOf those who looked to him with a pure faith,He came to yield him to their love again.
Martha came forth to meet him; but that oneWho oft had knelt, with warm devotion fired,And listened to the heaven-inspiring soundsWhich issued from his lips, remained behind,In the sad solitude of grief and wo.At her afflicted sister's call she came.List to their words: "We know if thou but speak,Life shall once more those pulses animate.""Where have ye laid him?" said that gentle voice,Which never spake, except to cheer the heartWith words of blessed import.
With words of blessed import.Jesus wept.But soon before that fast-sealed grave he stood,And on those weeping sisters turned his eye;—"Said I not unto you that ye should seeThe glory of your God? Believe on me.I am the Resurrection and the Life.He who believes on me shall never die."Then to the throne of light his eye was raised,—"Father! I thank Thee that my voice is heard." That pleading voice was heard, and then, in tones.Which thrilled through every vein of that vast crowd,He spake the words, "O Lazarus! come forth!"Scarce were the breathing accents heard, when he,So lately locked in the embrace of death,Came forth, exulting in the tide of life That fed his veins and warmed his conscious heart.While he who wrought this gracious miracle,Went forth upon his silent, lonely way,Not to the regal glories of a throne,But unto scorn, and treachery, and death.
Swell! swell to heaven the anthem's hallowed note,And bend the soul in fervent gratitude.Though the damp grave contained his sacred form,It could not hold him in its chill embrace;For he, too, broke its chains, and, at the callOf Him who gave him power to raise the dead,He spurned the.fetters that would keep him there,And soared to heaven, and taught his followers too,That, as he burst the grave, so shall they rise,And in the realms of everlasting joy,Live through a vast eternity.