THE CHRISTIAN'S FATHERLAND.
By Dean Stanley
Where is the Christian's Fatherland ?
Is it the Holy Hebrew Land ?
In Nazareth's vale, on Zion's steep,
Or by the Galilean deep ?
Where pilgrim hosts have rushed to lave
Their stains of sin in Jordan's wave,
Or sought to win by brand and blade
The tomb wherein their Lord was laid ? Where is the Christian's Fatherland ?
Is it the haunted Grecian strand
Where apostolic wanderers first
The yoke of Jewish bondage burst ?
Or, where, on many a mystic page
Byzantine prelate, Coptic sage,
Fondly essayed to intertwine
Earth's shadows with the light divine ? Or is the Christian's Fatherland
Where with crowned head and croziered hand,
The ghost of empire proudly flits
And on the grave of Cæsar sits ?
Oh! by those world-embracing walls,
Oh! in those vast and pictured halls,
Oh! underneath that soaring dome,
Shall this not be the Christian's home ? Where is the Christian's Fatherland ?
He still looks on from land to land—
Is it where German conscience woke,
When Luther's lips of thunder spoke ?
Or where by Zurich's shore was heard
The calm Helvetian's earnest word ?
Or where, beside the rushing Rhone,
Stern Calvin reared his unseen throne ?
Or where from Sweden's snows came forth
The stainless hero of the north ? Or is there yet a closer band—
Our own, our native Fatherland ?
Where law and freedom side by side
In Heaven's behalf have gladly vied ?
Where prayer and praise for years have rung
In Shakspeare's accents, Milton's tongue,
Blessing with cadence sweet and grave
The fireside nook, the ocean wave,
And o'er the broad Atlantic hurled,
Wakening to life another world ? No, Christian ! no—not even here,
By Christmas hearth or churchyard dear ;
Nor yet on distant shores brought nigh
By martyr's blood or prophet's cry—
Nor Western pontiff's lordly name,
Nor Eastern patriarch's hoary fame—
Nor e'en where shone sweet Bethlehem's star ;
Thy Fatherland is wider far. Thy native home is wheresoever
Christ's Spirit breathes a holier air ;
Where Christ-like faith is keen to seek
What truth or conscience freely speak ;
Where Christ-like love delights to span
The rents that sever man from man ;
Where round God's throne his just ones stand,
There, Christian, is thy Fatherland.