Poems (Edwards)/The Baptismal
THE BAPTISMAL.
With high and holy faith,The mother brought her Infant; and, with prayersOf deep and earnest fervour, she offered upIts young and sinless being unto Him,By whom its life was given. Like a birdIt lay upon her bosom; its soft eyesWere veiled in holy slumber, and its lipWas wreathed with smiles, as if its dreamsWere filled with forms of heavenly beauty. Its young heartBeat lightly 'gainst the mother's, as she pressedIts form softly to her own, and, with tearsAnd fervent prayers, looked up,And gave her infant to the man of GodWho waited there to bless it. Soft and lowWere the deep words he uttered, as he touchedThe infant's brow so exquisitely white,With the baptismal water. And his faceWas lighted up with joy, as he gaveIt back to its mother's arms again,And knelt in supplication at the feetOf the Almighty Maker; and there went upFrom that kneeling multitude one prayer,One universal prayer from countless hearts,To the high seat of Mercy, that the childMight be through life, as spotless and as pureAs the bright water that had touched its brow,Blessed by the Lord's anointed. It was done,The high vow had been taken, which was sealed,—Sealed in the sight of angels. And she turned,That pure young mother with her precious child,Turned from the good man's presence, where with heart,And soul, and spirit, her Fair Boy,To Heaven she had consecrated.