Stern Time, thou wast at proud Belshazzar’s sumptuous feast,
When the pomp and splendor of the sensuous East,
Robed in gold and crimson, graced the banquet hall,
And ’mid revelry saw the hand write on the wall;
Thou mark’st the look of horror on each frozen face,
And the deadly silence that fell upon the place
Of infamous lewdness, aflame with light and bloom;
Thou knew’st the hand was writing Belshazzar’s doom!
The vessels of the Lord had been ushered in,
And desecrated by debauchery and sin;
Stained by impious draughts to the gods of gold,
Of silver, brass, and iron, in defiance bold.
Hark! hark! What means that ominous and boding sound?
’Tis the march of a million feet that shake the ground.
’Tis the Medes and Persians thundering at the walls,
And before whose impetuous rush proud Babylon falls.
And ere the dawn’s pale light falls soft o’er all again,
Her proud and impious king is like a wild wolf slain.
CHAPTER IV.—THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM.
And didst thou sing, then, with the mystic morning star
That shone o’er Bethlehem from heaven’s gate ajar?
And didst thy grateful praises like a river flow
When Christ was born there nineteen hundred years ago?
And didst thou follow Him to soothe and bless His life,
Marking His neglect and care, agony and strife?
The meek and lowly Saviour who came a world to save:
For the fallen and sinful His life He freely gave.
All His precious days to man were gladly given
In teaching him the way that leadeth up to heaven,
In visiting the poor, and soothing grief and pain,
Healing every ill, and restoring life again.
And thou heardst His accusers when in rage and hate
They rudely pushed Him forward unto Pilate’s gate,
Where Pilate pled His innocence, finding no just cause
Of complaint against Him to the state or laws.
But still they loudly clamored for His precious blood,
And shamefully crucified Him, the spotless Son of God.
O fatal sixth hour on Calvary’s rugged hill!
When the sun withdrew, and in shuddering stood still,
And the temple veil in the midst was rent in twain,
And the earth trembled as if in throes of pain,
And all nature quaked with terror and amaze—
’Twas hard for the Lord’s followers on it to gaze.
The world had never seen, nor ever will again,
So great a sacrifice, nor such suff’ring and pain.
And didst thou, O sleepless Time, shed a single tear?
For thou didst pause awhile benumbed with fear.
And didst thou when He rose to His Father’s house on
high
Hear the singing of the angels pealing through the sky?
And didst thou there rejoice that He so freely gave
His life man’s poor and ruined soul from sin to save?
Thou knewest all the prophets and their checkered life
Of noble struggle—grand heroes in the strife
With sin and despotism. To save man’s ruined soul
They endured every privation, and their goal
Was heaven and immortality. They would draw
All mankind after them by keeping God’s just law.
With Paul, they counted suffering and loss but gain.
Avoiding earth’s allurements and the bauble fame,
They went among the lowly to help, save, and cheer,
Facing death, every danger, undeterred by fear.
And from home and country they went at duty’s call,
In the work of rescuing man from his sad fall.
CHAPTER V.—A NIGHT IN OLD ROME.
A night in old Rome! The sighing southwind blew
Down from the purple vine-clad hills, and stealing through
A thousand bowers, summer-laden and so fair,
In odorous bloom it revelled everywhere.
A million golden stars looked upon the night;
Over all the crescent moon cast a dreamy light;
And the witchery of music floated on the air
In sweet notes gay and tender. Devoid of every care,
A million hearts were dreaming in that dreamful hour,
Tenderly enveloped by love’s mystic power.
All Rome seemed wrapt in dreamful white-winged peace,
And from every weary care wooed sweet release.