The Nocturnal Visit.
By Mary Ann H. T. Bigelow
Lo the curtains of night around Palestine fall,
And Jerusalem's streets into darkness are thrown;
The late-busy hum of men's voices is hushed,
And the city is clad in dark livery alone.
But see through the dimness that half opened door,
And slowly emerging a figure behold;
A quick, furtive glance he has thrown all around,
For what is he thirsting, for blood, or for gold?
Stealthily, fearfully, onward he moves,
So light are his footsteps you scarce hear their tread;
Yet no midnight robber, no murderer is he,
Then why dread recognition - of man why afraid?
Let us follow his footsteps and learn where he goes;
And now at the door of a house see him stand;
But why wait so long ere admittance he seeks,
In attempting to knock, why trembles that hand?
He has come to the fountain of light and of life,
Before whom ne'er suppliant sued humbly in vain;
He has come for the knowledge that alone maketh rich,
And without which we're poor, though the whole world we gain.
He has come to learn wisdom of that lowly one,
Who spake as "never man spake" it was said;
And who, though so poor and despised among men,
Is the whole world's Sustainer, creation's great Head.
But list to the words of the Saviour of men,
"Verily, verily I say unto thee,
That no man, except he be born again,
Is permitted the kingdom of heaven to see."
How humbling to pride were these words of our Lord,
What fears in his guest they serve to awaken;
Though a ruler of Jews, he was yet in his sins;
The first step towards heaven he never had taken.
Ah! Nicodemus, how many like thee,
Would perceive all their boasted religion was vain,
Could they meet but his glance who "searcheth the heart,
And trieth the reins of the children of men."
Sept. 9, 1852.