|
|
|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
JACOB'S PILLOW AND PILLAR, by HENRY VAUGHAN Poet Analysis Poet's Biography
First Line: I see the temple in thy pillar reared
Last Line: But we the substance have, and on him rest.
Alternate Author Name(s): Silurist
First Line: I see the temple in thy pillar reared
Last Line: But we the substance have, and on him rest.
Alternate Author Name(s): Silurist
I see the Temple in thy Pillar reared,
And that dread glory, which thy children feared,
In mild, clear visions, without a frown,
Unto thy solitary self is shown.
'Tis number makes a schism: throngs are rude,
And God himself died by the multitude.
This made him put on clouds, and fire and smoke,
Hence he in thunder to thy offspring spoke;
The small, still voice, at some low cottage knocks,
But a strong wind must break thy lofty rocks.
The first true worship of the world's great King
From private and selected hearts did spring,
But he most willing to save all mankind,
Enlarged that light, and to the bad was kind.
Hence Catholic or Universal came
A most fair notion, but a very name.
For this rich Pearl, like some more common stone,
When once made public, is esteemed by none.
Man slights his Maker, when familiar grown,
And sets up laws, to pull his honour down.
This God foresaw: and when slain by the crowd
(Under that stately and mysterious cloud
Which his death scattered) he foretold the place,
And form to serve him in, should be true grace
And the meek heart, not in a Mount, nor at
Jerusalem, with blood of beasts and fat.
A heart is that dread place, that awful cell,
That secret Ark, where the mild Dove doth dwell
When the proud waters rage: when heathens rule
By God's permission, and man turns a mule.
This little Goshen, in the midst of night
And Satan's seat, in all her coasts hath light,
Yea Bethel shall have tithes (saith Israel's stone)
And vows and visions, though her foes cry, None.
Thus is the solemn temple sunk again
Into a Pillar, and concealed from men.
And glory be to his eternal Name!
Who is contented, that this holy flame
Shall lodge in such a narrow pit, till he
With his strong arm turns our captivity.
But blessed Jacob, though thy sad distress
Was just the same with ours, and nothing less;
For thou a brother, and blood-thirsty too
Didst fly, whose children wrought thy children's woe:
Yet thou in all thy solitude and grief,
On stones didst sleep and found'st but cold relief;
Thou from the Day-star a long way didst stand
And all that distance was Law and command.
But we a healing Sun by day and night,
Have our sure Guardian, and our leading light;
What thou didst hope for and believe, we find
And feel a friend most ready, sure and kind.
Thy pillow was but type and shade at best,
But we the substance have, and on him rest.