Then declare unto us, and say
By what authority now
Baptizest thou?

JOHN.

I indeed baptize you with water
Unto repentance; but He,
That cometh after me,

Is mightier than I and higher;
The latchet of whose shoes

I am not worthy to unloose;
He shall baptize you with fire,
And with the Holy Ghost!
Whose fan is in his hand;
He will purge to the uttermost
His floor, and garner his wheat,

But will burn the chaff in the brand
And fire of unquenchable heat!
Repent! repent! repent!

MOUNT QUARANTANIA. From Longfellow's Divine

Tragedy.

1

I.

LUCIFER.

NoT in the lightning's flash, nor in the thunder,
Not in the tempest, nor the cloudy storm,
Will I array my form;

But part invisible these boughs asunder,
And move and murmur, as the wind upheaves
And whispers in the leaves.

Not as a terror and a desolation,

Not in my natural shape, inspiring fear
And dread, will I appear;

But in soft tones of sweetness and persuasion,
A sound as of the fall of mountain streams,
Or voices heard in dreams.

He sitteth there in silence, worn and wasted
With famine, and uplifts his hollow eyes
To the unpitying skies;

For forty days and nights he hath not tasted
Of food or drink, his parted lips are pale,
Surely his strength must fail.

Wherefore dost thou in penitential fasting
Waste and consume the beauty of thy youth?
Ah, if thou be in truth

The Son of the Unnamed, the Everlasting,
Command these stones beneath thy feet to be
Changed into bread for thee!

CHRISTUS.

"T is written: Man shall not live by bread alone, But by each word that from God's mouth proceedeth!

II.

LUCIFER.

Too weak, alas! too weak is the temptation
For one whose soul to nobler things aspiree
Than sensual desires!

Ah, could I, by some sudden aberration,
Lead and delude to suicidal death
This Christ of Nazareth!

Unto the holy Temple on Moriah,
With its resplendent domes, and manifold
Bright pinnacles of gold,

Where they await thy coming, O Messiah!
Lo, I have brought thee! Let thy glory here
Be manifest and clear.

Reveal thyself by royal act and gesture,
Descending with the bright triumphant host
Of all the highermost

Archangels, and about thee as a vesture
The shining clouds, and all thy splendors show
Unto the world below!

Cast thyself down, it is the hour appointed; And God hath given his angels charge and care To keep thee and upbear

Upon their hands his only Son, the Anointed, Lest he should dash his foot against a stone

And die, and be unknown.

CHRISTUS.

"T is written: Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God!

III.

LUCIFER.

I cannot thus delude him to perdition!
But one temptation still remains untried,
The trial of Iris pride,

The thirst of power, the fever of ambition!
Surely by these a humble peasant's son
At last may be undone!

Above the yawning chasms and deep abysses,
Across the headlong torrents, I have brought
Thy footsteps, swift as thought;

And from the highest of these precipices,
The Kingdoms of the world thine eyes behold,
Life a great map unrolled.

From far-off Lebanon, with cedars crested,
To where the waters of the Asphalt Lake
On its white pebbles break,

And the vast desert, silent, sand-invested,
These kingdoms all are mine, and thine shall be,
If thou wilt worship me!

CHRISTUS.

Get thee behind me, Satan! thoa shalt worship The Lord thy God; Him only shalt thou serve!

ANGELS MINISTRANT.

The sun goes down; the evening shadows lengthen, The fever and the struggle of the day

Abate and pass away;

Thine Angels Ministrant, we come to strengthen And comfort thee, and crown thee with the palm, The silence and the calm.

THE DREAM OF GERONTIUS.-Dr. Newman.

I.

SOUL OF GERONTIUS.

I went to sleep; and now I am refresh'd,
A strange refreshment; for I feel in me
An inexpressive lightness, and a sense
Of freedom, as I were at length myself,
And ne'er had been before. How still it is!
I hear no more the busy beat of time,

No, nor my fluttering breath, nor struggling pulse,
Nor does one moment differ from the next.
I had a dream; yes:-some one softly said
"He's gone;" and then a sigh went round the room,
And then I surely heard a priestly voice
Cry "Subvenite;" and they knelt in prayer.
I seem to hear him still; but thin and low,
And fainter and more faint the accents come,

As at an ever-widening interval.

Ah! whence is this? What is this severance?

This silence pours a solitariness

Into the very essence of my

soul;