Meditation CXVII.
Meditation CXVII.
BRIGHT VIEWS AND BOLD LANGUAGE ABOVE.
Under sail for Lisbon, Nov. 29, 1761.
Often at the description of divine things, by a masterly pen, or a truly poetical genius, I have been astonished; and admired the enlarged views of those, and their sublime thoughts, who, like myself—but dwelt in clay. Then I thought—What must the songs of the new Jerusalem be, when a stanza or two, wrote by a poor mortal, laboring with corruption, and bewailing his ignorance of sacred things, yields so much pleasure and delight!
I shall, then, for a moment, suppose myself arrived at the regions of glory, and welcomed by the King eternal to the heavenly world. But how am I at once transported with the harmony of bliss, while I am indulged to look into the library of heaven, and read all the songs of eternity itself! First, then, a celestial hymn spreads before me, whose majestic style astonishes, whose soft and flowing numbers ravish, which was sung by the morning-stars together, by all the sons of God, when the earth was created.
And next, an matchless song, composed by the first bards of light, and sung by part of the celestial choir, when the son of God condescended to be born. Then a triumphant anthem, sung and echoed round the whole court of heaven by all the multitudes of light, when the Son of God ascended conqueror over all his foes, and sat down on high at the right hand of God.
But the most amazing and inimitable piece, for abundance of subject, for excellency of matter, for beauty of expression, for ardency of love, for intimacy of communion, and for refined and exalted thought—is the divine wedding song, which, at the marriage supper of the Lamb, when the whole family of heaven is assembled to divide no more, shall be sung by every guest at the feast of love, at the table of bliss.
Besides these, here are some reviving hymns, composed by angels rejoicing over repenting sinners. What exalted joy sparkles in that angelic composition over a penitent Manassah—and every returning prodigal! Gabriel, in this matchless ode, sings of the eternity of God, in such strains as would astonish all the bards of time.
In that song of praise, Raphael dwells on the trinity of persons—while Michael celebrates the majesty and power of the Eternal, with such energy of thought as would darken the brightest poets which the world ever saw. In another song, a mighty seraph sings matchlessly of sacred love, and all heaven echoes amen to his divine praise. Yes, now every saint is a poet, every believer a sweet bard!
O how sweet are the songs of the higher temple! how soft the harmony of eternal day! What hallelujahs rise from the angels of God! what hosannas from the church of the first born! What concord and symphony are in the songs above! How dark, compared to these, were the brightest descriptions of God I ever heard below!
How dull are my former ardors to those which now I feel! How faint and languid my love to what now kindles in my bosom! Here in glory, is the refined expression, here the noble idea, here the exalted turn of thought, here the true sublime of divine poetry, and here the enlarged, the unveiled view of divine things, of heavenly glories—to embolden and enliven every song. Here we talk of God at his throne, and while we commend him, we behold the beauties of his face! While we exalt him, we enjoy him, and so can never cease extolling him!
But, alas! my dark views of future things convince me that I am still in the body. Yet great things I may expect in that state of perfection. And though now I cannot serve God, nor sing to God, as I would, and as I should—yet there is a day on the wing when I shall join the anthem of love, and, being loosed from all my present fetters, shall sing through eternity with the bards of paradise, "To him who loved us, died for us, rose again, and reigns on high—be honor and might, power and dominion, blessing and glory, forever and ever, Amen!"
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