Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/Sacred
Sacred.
Pity religion has so seldom found,
A skilful guide into poetic ground,
The flowers would spring where'er she deigned to stray.
And every muse attend her on her way.
Cowper.
How beautiful is genius when combin'd
With holiness! oh, how divinely sweet
The tones of earthly harp, whose chords are touch'd
By the soft hand of Piety—and hung
Upon religion's shrine.
Wilson's Isle of Palms.
It is no trifling good to win the ear of children with verses which foster in them the seeds of humanity and tenderness and piety; awaken their fancy, and exercise pleasurably and wholesomely their imaginative and meditative powers. It is no trifling benefit to provide a ready mirror for the young, in which they may see their own best feelings reflected, and wherein "whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are lovely," are presented to them in the most attractive form. It is no trifling benefit to send abroad strains which may assist in preparing the heart for its trials, and in supporting it under them.—Southey.
The poetry of devotion is the rarest of all poetry. It is sad to think
how few, of all the poets in the English language, have possessed or
exhibited the Christian character, or had the remembrance of their
names associated with the thoughts of Christ and His Cross, or the
feelings to which the great theme of redemption gives rise in the bosom
of a Christian. We may find plenty of the sentimentality of religion,
expressed too in beautiful language, but as cold as a winter night's
frost-work on our windows. A few beloved volumes, indeed, have their
place in the heart, but they are few; and of these the praise belongs
not exclusively to the genius of poetry, but to a far more precious and
elevated spirit—the spirit of the Bible. What bosom, that possesses
this, does not contain the germ of deep poetry? What poet has experienced
its influence, whose song did not breathe an echo of the
melodies of paradise? In the true minstrelsy of devotion, there is a
higher excellence than that of mere genius. Poetry herself acknowledges a power which is not in her, and observes a deep and sublime
emotion excited which she cannot, unassisted, produce or maintain in
the souls of her listeners. When she becomes the handmaid of piety,
she finds herself adorned and enriched (in another sense than Virgil's)
with a beauty and a wealth that are not her own—
"Miraturque noros fructus, et non sua poma."
Sacred Harp.
The glowing language and harmonious numbers of poetry exert a
powerful influence over the human mind, both in elevating the thoughts
and warming the feelings. This power can never be so legitimately
employed as in contributing to the purposes of religion, the paramount
importance of which demands that every endeavour should be bestowed
to recommend it to the understanding and the heart. Convinced of
this truth, and encouraged by the example of the inspired poets of the
Old Testament and by the injunction of the Apostle Paul, to teach and
admonish one another in psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs,
many eminent Christians in modern times have exercised their talents
in composing hymns in honour of the great events recorded in Holy
Writ, or in giving a poetical dress to some of the remarkable passages
with which it abounds, and thereby adapting them for storing the
memory with sublime and holy thoughts, or for forming a part in the
hallowed praises of the sanctuary.—Rev. H. Stebbing.