HYMN. Joanna Baillie Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Baillie, Joanna, 1762-1851. Fugitive Verses. By Joanna Baillie, author of “Dramas on the Passions,“ etc. London Edward Moxon, Dover Street. MDCCCXL. 1840 pp. 375-377.

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HYMN . THE frith is crossed , the previous war-fare past , Through swampy plains , dark woods and deserts vast , O'er heaths , and flowery slopes and valleys fair , And gloomy mountain passes steep and bare , — All disembarked the pilgrims stand On the unknown and beauteous Land , While Hope , who needs support no more , Hath dropped her anchor by the shore , A strangely-mingled band ! And lo , with many a lofty dome , Before them stands that ample home , Of many mansions , halls of rest , And heavenly converse for the blest , Where charity and love abide ; While through its precincts fair and wide , Research , and knowledge , and devotion , Together wend with onward motion , — A home to which , the entrance free , Come from all tribes of each degree , And from all lands , the lord and slave , The firm , the timid and the brave ; The nursling from its mother's arms , The maid in all her early charms , The stately dame , the weary drudge , The priest , the penitent , the pannel and the judge , — The learned philosopher , historian sage , And he who could not scan a lettered page , Who look with wonderment , yet look with love , On their Companions , and most sweetly prove The new-born fellowship of blessed souls above . Yea , there do enemies and rivals meet , And with a strange good-will each other greet , Like urchins who in feigned array Of war , on school-tide holyday , Have sparred and jostled on the green , And for a moment angry been , Yea , feel such presence hath within them given , A quickened zest even to the joys of Heaven . For o'er them charity like unseen air , Diffusing balmy sweetness every where , Shall softly brood ; and minds of every hue , From rosy paleness to empurpled blue , Like the fair rainbow's mingled harmony , Give softened splendour to the mental eye . For wisdom as the generous Saviour said , When peevish censure reckless charges made — Wisdom , unshackled , works on every side , And is of all her children justified . The pilgrim crowds advance . But O , that sight Before them opening , beautiful and bright , As lessening distance gives to view Their Father's house , while they pursue Their onward path , — No ! nor by word or thought , To man's imagination can be brought , That awful glory , cease , vain muser ! cease ! Bless God in humble hope , and be at peace .