James Challen The Sky (1853)

FROM

THE

MILLENNIAL HARBINGER:

FOURTH SERIES.

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VOL. III.] BETHANY, VA. JANUARY, 1853. [NO. I.
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THE SKY.
BY JAMES CHALLEN.
What is man? we humbly cry,
As we look upon the sky,
With its diamond glittering dome,
Arch of man's eternal home.
To your starry orbs we turn,
Where a thousand torches burn,
Trembling in the azure blue,
Brilliants bright, of every hue.
To the wakeful, sorrowing band,
Speaking of the better land;
Sending messages of love
From their burning thrones above.
Old, familiar faces, thou,
Ever calm and bright as now;
By thy sweet and sunny smile,
Anxious cares and fears beguile.
To behold thy glories shine,
Shepherds on their hills recline;
And childhood, in its wildest glee,
Lifts its tiny hands to thee.
And the prophet bard inspired,
By thy kindling warmth is fired;
Silent, in thy depths profound,
Circling all above, around.
Lifting high their wondrous forms,
Far beyond the reach of storms.
Shining on, and shining ever,
Changing, fading, thou wilt never.
Telling us of worlds of light,
Far beyond our mortal sight;
Pointing to the brilliant road,
Which the bless'd Redeemer trode,
When he left our sinful sphere,
In thy palace to appear.
Lights which sparkle on the way,
Leading to eternal day.
Windows, of that glorious fane,
Where the happy spirits reign;
Brilliants, blazing on the breast,
Of the Saviour's gorgeous vest,
Where, in oracles divine,
Light and beauty ever shine;
Nightly preaching, still and clear,
To the observant, listening ear;
Breathing lessons deep and low,
In their bright, unfathomed glow.
Springs of sweet inspiring thought,
From thy holy founts are brought.
Isles of beauty, clustering shine,
In thy liquid depths divine;
Teaching, by their majesty,
How diminutive are we!
In our little, narrow dell,
Tenants of the dust, we dwell;
Chained and prisoned to the earth,
Which has given our humble birth.
But the eye which sees thy light,
Shines with glory's not less bright,
Than thy brilliant orbs now shed,
On our lowly, humble head.
And the mind which soars afar,
To each twinkling, trembling star,
Less capacious cannot be,
Than thy own immensity.
And, when raised above this sphere,
Hence with seraphs to appear,
Orbs of glory we shall shine,
Spotless, stainless, pure, divine;
Far above thy might we'll spring,
Boundless on our tireless wing,
To those realms of light our own,
Near the crystal, burning throne.
Then our pavement thou shalt be,
In a blest eternity;
In that city seen of old,
Flashing emerald and gold;
Where, with mighty seraphim,
Martyr'd hosts and cherubim,
Louder than the thunders roar,
Coral anthems we shall pour,
To creations Lord and King,
For that princely offering,
Which hath opened up the way
To the realms of endless day.

[The Millennial Harbinger (January 1853): 57.]

ABOUT THE ELECTRONIC EDITION

      James Challen's "The Sky" was first published in The Millennial Harbinger, Fourth Series, Vol. 3, No. 1, January 1853. The electronic version of the poem has been produced from the College Press reprint (1976) of The Millennial Harbinger, ed. Alexander Campbell (Bethany, VA: A. Campbell, 1853), p. 57.

      Pagination in the electronic version has been represented by placing the page number in brackets following the last complete word on the printed page. I have let stand variations and inconsistencies in the author's (or editor's) use of italics, capitalization, punctuation, and spelling in the poem.

      Addenda and corrigenda are earnestly solicited.

Ernie Stefanik
Derry, PA

Created 22 June 1998.
Updated 2 July 2003.

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