Through the crowded streets of Salem, see, they whisper man to man,
Like a flash of summer lightning through the heavens, the tidings ran;
" In the wilderness by Jordan unto us a voice is sent,
God is on His way. His herald cries before He comes, Repent. "
On the mart of busy traffic, on the merchant's growing hoard,
On the bridegroom's perfumed chamber, on the banquet's festive board,
On the halls where pleasure squander'd all the heaps of avarice,
On the dreams of blind devotion, on the loathsome haunts of vice
Like a thunder-roll the tidings fell, and lo! the sudden gloom
Then and there gave fearful presage of the coming day of doom.
But the workman left his workshop, and the merchant left his wares,
And the miser left his coffers and the Pharisee his prayers:
From Jerusalem to Jordan, see they pour a motley group,
Young men, maidens, old men, children, priests and people, troop on troop:
Neighbour thought not now of neighbour, parent scarcely thought of child:
There were few who spoke or answer'd, there were none who jeer'd or smiled:
No one wept: tyrannic conscience seal'd their eyes and ears and lips,
And Eternity was shadowing Time with terrible eclipse.
There it wound, that ancient river: there he stood, that lonely man.
Is it yet too late? to rearmost some shrank back, some forward ran:
Brave men quail'd, and timid women bolder seem'd beneath his eye:
Age grew flush'd, and youth grew paler, and the voice was heard to cry,
" God is on His way. The Judge already stands before the gate;
Make the lofty low before Him, rugged smooth, and crooked straight. "
As the multitudes in thousands round him throng'd, a timorous flock,
Fell his words like hail in harvest, like the hammer on the rock,
Breaking stony hearts to shivers, cloaking, sparing, softening naught,
But with lightning flash revealing midnight mysteries of thought.
God was Master, man was servant; right was right and wrong was wrong:
Sinners might dream on a little, but the respite was not long.
Good or evil fruit trees, whether of the twain? no test but fruit:
Cut it down; the fire is kindled, and the axe lies at the root.
Wherefore call themselves the children of the God-like Abraham?
Things THAT ARE alone are precious unto the supreme I AM.
Generation bred of vipers, wherefore are they pale and dumb?
Will they flee? oh, who hath warn'd them of the dreadful wrath to come?
Are the dry bones stirring, breathing? God can raise up men from stones.
See the Lamb, the dying Victim! only life for life atones:
And the deep red current, flowing from the first-lings Abel vow'd,
Cries from age to age for mercy, louder yet, and yet more loud,
Till the sacrifice be offer'd for the world's stupendous guilt,
And the Lamb of God is smitten on the altar God has built.
Is the hard heart bruised and contrite? Do they weep and vow and pray?
It is well; let Jordan's waters wash their loathed stains away.
But the coming One, whose coming now was every moment nigher,
He, the Son of God, baptizes with the Holy Ghost and fire:
In His hand the fan that winnows; at His feet the harvest floor;
Chaff the food for quenchless burnings: garner'd wheat for evermore.
Like a flash of summer lightning through the heavens, the tidings ran;
" In the wilderness by Jordan unto us a voice is sent,
God is on His way. His herald cries before He comes, Repent. "
On the mart of busy traffic, on the merchant's growing hoard,
On the bridegroom's perfumed chamber, on the banquet's festive board,
On the halls where pleasure squander'd all the heaps of avarice,
On the dreams of blind devotion, on the loathsome haunts of vice
Like a thunder-roll the tidings fell, and lo! the sudden gloom
Then and there gave fearful presage of the coming day of doom.
But the workman left his workshop, and the merchant left his wares,
And the miser left his coffers and the Pharisee his prayers:
From Jerusalem to Jordan, see they pour a motley group,
Young men, maidens, old men, children, priests and people, troop on troop:
Neighbour thought not now of neighbour, parent scarcely thought of child:
There were few who spoke or answer'd, there were none who jeer'd or smiled:
No one wept: tyrannic conscience seal'd their eyes and ears and lips,
And Eternity was shadowing Time with terrible eclipse.
There it wound, that ancient river: there he stood, that lonely man.
Is it yet too late? to rearmost some shrank back, some forward ran:
Brave men quail'd, and timid women bolder seem'd beneath his eye:
Age grew flush'd, and youth grew paler, and the voice was heard to cry,
" God is on His way. The Judge already stands before the gate;
Make the lofty low before Him, rugged smooth, and crooked straight. "
As the multitudes in thousands round him throng'd, a timorous flock,
Fell his words like hail in harvest, like the hammer on the rock,
Breaking stony hearts to shivers, cloaking, sparing, softening naught,
But with lightning flash revealing midnight mysteries of thought.
God was Master, man was servant; right was right and wrong was wrong:
Sinners might dream on a little, but the respite was not long.
Good or evil fruit trees, whether of the twain? no test but fruit:
Cut it down; the fire is kindled, and the axe lies at the root.
Wherefore call themselves the children of the God-like Abraham?
Things THAT ARE alone are precious unto the supreme I AM.
Generation bred of vipers, wherefore are they pale and dumb?
Will they flee? oh, who hath warn'd them of the dreadful wrath to come?
Are the dry bones stirring, breathing? God can raise up men from stones.
See the Lamb, the dying Victim! only life for life atones:
And the deep red current, flowing from the first-lings Abel vow'd,
Cries from age to age for mercy, louder yet, and yet more loud,
Till the sacrifice be offer'd for the world's stupendous guilt,
And the Lamb of God is smitten on the altar God has built.
Is the hard heart bruised and contrite? Do they weep and vow and pray?
It is well; let Jordan's waters wash their loathed stains away.
But the coming One, whose coming now was every moment nigher,
He, the Son of God, baptizes with the Holy Ghost and fire:
In His hand the fan that winnows; at His feet the harvest floor;
Chaff the food for quenchless burnings: garner'd wheat for evermore.