THE 
 
 DESCENT FROM THE CROSS. 
 
 HARTFORD. 
 
 PRLNTED BY CASE, TIFFANY & BURNHAM, PEARL STREET. 
 1841.
 
 UCSB LIBRARY
 
 Run ens 

 
 THE 
 
 DESCENT FROM THE CROSS. 
 
 flotm, 
 
 DELIVERED IN HARTFORD, OCTOBER 28, 1841. 
 
 BY LUCIAN BURLEIGH. 
 
 HARTFORD. 
 
 PRINTED BY CASE, TIFFANY & BURNHAM. PEARL STREET. 
 1841.

 
 THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS, 
 
 SUNSET o'er wide Judea. Broad and red, 
 Rolled down the affrighted orb, and scarce one ray 
 Gave back to gild rock, spire, or temple dome. 
 One lurid glare was burning on the brow 
 Of the astonished heaven the mantlino- blush 
 
 O 
 
 Of conscious Nature, at the deep and black 
 Ingratitude of man. The fire-eyed sun 
 Had never seen, along his radiant way, 
 So foul a deed and wild, as darkened then 
 The golden lustre of his fading beams ; 
 Since o'er the kindling of creation's dawn, 
 The hand of God marked out his burning path 
 Through the void firmament ; not even when 
 His fiery beams drank up the martyr-blood 
 Of murdered Abel, as he bowed in death ; 
 And gave his soul an offering to God, 
 At his own altar. 
 
 The departing day 
 
 Had veiled its glances, that they might not gild 
 The victor car of man's Arh-enemy, 
 In his most fatal triumph, Conquest won, 
 That, suicidal, smote his own proud crest. 
 'T was done ! For earth, the anointed Lamb was slain ; 
 Slain for our sins, and the revolted world,
 
 That we through Him, might have eternal life. 
 The maddened multitude, swayed to and fro, 
 Like the wild ocean, when its storm lashed waves 
 Burst terrible o'er their flinty bounds, had rolled 
 Forth, from the gates of walled Jerusalem ; 
 And, like the returning ebb of that wild sea, 
 Rolled back again, while on Golgotha's brow, 
 Earth's crowning sacrifice, God!s well-beloved, 
 Hung stricken with intensest agony, 
 Than which, save His, nor fiercer pang could bear 
 Nor deeper sting, one soul, or free or swathed 
 In the weak foldings of mortality. 
 The impious scoff, and the derisive jeer, 
 Of priest, and populace uprose to heaven, 
 Blackening the cloud of vengeance, that hung dark 
 O'er Salem's doomed and long-devoted walls. 
 Fierce Hell had heard the shout of" Crucify" 
 Rung by the infuriate multitude ; and seen 
 The horrid triumph of incarnate fiends ; 
 And Hell was stirred through its profoundest deep. 
 Her swarming legions, pouring from their caves, 
 As pours the simoon on its deadly march, 
 Winnowed the desert waste, and mountain cliff, 
 With the swift beat of foul and obscene wings ; 
 And hovering demons on the burning air, 
 Darkened the sun at noonday. Rayless, rolled 
 The unblazing orb along the hueless heaven, 
 Shedding thick gloom, _and deeper night, upon 
 The all prevailing darkness. Rocks were rent ; 
 Earth's granite heart was broken, at the deed 
 Of unrelenting man ; and the dark grave, 
 Shook from the slumber of revolving years, 
 Yawned heavily. The sheeted dead leap'd forth 
 From the dark sepulchre, a spectral host, 
 And dimly strode along the dismal gloom.
 
 The wild rout of the maddened populace, 
 
 With sceptered king, and chief, and jeering priest. 
 
 Had passed away, when from his home, abashed, 
 
 The affrighted Sun looked out. The Crucified 
 
 Mocked in His wasting torture, rolled His eye 
 
 Upward in agony and cried aloud, 
 
 "Eloi! Eloi! lama sabacthani ?" 
 
 And the great Spirit of incarnate God 
 
 Clove the sick air and darted into heaven. 
 
 Night came, and turned the heartless deicide 
 
 To lift, in impious mockery, the hand, 
 
 Red with the blood of slaughtered Innocence, 
 
 And call to heaven for blessings on the deed. 
 
 Beneath the shade of twilight's dusky wing, 
 
 A chosen band approached the accursed cross 
 
 With solemn tread along their voiceless way, 
 
 Voiceless, save ever and anon a moan, 
 
 From the deep-heaving-breast of one, that broke, 
 
 The Virgin mother mourning for her Son. 
 
 Joseph the just, and John the well beloved, 
 
 On whose strong arm the weeping mother leaned, 
 
 And Nicodemus in whose heart the fear 
 
 Of popular scorn, and the unyielding hate 
 
 Of a proud world, his love could quench not, came ; 
 
 And with them, Mary, from whose tortured breast 
 
 Startled at Christ's omnific word, in dread, 
 
 The seven foul spirits to their burning home 
 
 Fled howling fierce, and left her bosom pure ; 
 
 And the tried souls that terror could not awe, 
 
 Of death and fell derision. On they moved 
 
 To bear the Saviour's cold, insulted form 
 
 To its chill mansion in the dreary tomb, 
 
 Corruption's rock-hewn temple, where the worm 
 
 Is mightier than the conquerer, whose tread 
 
 Hath crushed the nations down, and shook the world.
 
 6 
 
 Heaven's arch was dark and shadow veiled, save where 
 
 The effulgent glory of the Father shone 
 
 On the slain Son. The dun clouds to and fro 
 
 Swayed heavily on the tired and sluggish wing 
 
 Of the inconstant wind ; and starless night 
 
 'Gan peer above the foldings of the mist. 
 
 Silent they gathered round the accursed tree, 
 
 A stricken band ! The memories of the past, 
 
 Like armed spectres by the potent wand 
 
 Of Chaldean sorcerer up-called to life, 
 
 Came crowding on each soul as sorrowing 
 
 The mourners bended to their holy task. 
 
 There stood the mother, and her heart was wrung 
 
 With all a mother's agony, for a Son 
 
 Murdered by ruthless hands, a Saviour slain 
 
 By an ungrateful world ; her upturned eye 
 
 Mournfully glancing on the pulseless corse, 
 
 And the soul's sadness written in her gaze. 
 
 What burning thoughts were hers, as they unloosed 
 
 The cruel iron from His mangled palms, 
 
 And His pierced heart dropped gouts of clotted blood. 
 
 The gloomy memories of the buried past 
 
 Hung o'er the darkened present, and the thought 
 
 Of gladder moments like the sudden light 
 
 Poured on the midnight thunder cloud, revealed 
 
 The unbroken gloom that compassed it around : 
 
 Perchance the calmness, when the storm was o'er, 
 
 Left by the last kind touch of Death upon 
 
 His pure cold brow and His unmoving lip, 
 
 Sent back her agonizing thought, and told 
 
 How her young heart beat high with holy joy, 
 
 When o'er His cradle hung the morning star, 
 
 And the grey Magi came and bent to see 
 
 The heavenly quiet of His infant sleep, 
 
 As angel pinions fanned the unchanging brow 
 
 Of the young sleeper. Then, perchance, there came
 
 The thought of trials past, when Bethlehem's star 
 Grew dim in heaven, and by the Spirit led, 
 For Egypt's plains, she took her sunless way, 
 With the young Child ; still in her weary flight 
 Guarding His slumbers with a sleepless eye, 
 What time the wrath of sceptered Herod burned 
 In kingly fury o'er the bleeding land, 
 Till one loud wail went surging up to heaven 
 From slaughtered infants mangled on the sword ; 
 The voice of anguish came from Rama's vales 
 The wail of Rachel for her children torn 
 And dashed in vengeance on the gory wall ; 
 While mourning mothers poured their loud lament 
 From vallies green, and the uplifted hills, 
 And their deep sorrows melted into hers. 
 Low at her feet and by the Saviour's Cross 
 Knelt Mary of Cleophas, she who sought 
 His steps in Gallilee when the burning scorn 
 Of mocking multitudes was the price of love, 
 And there, undaunted by the scoffers' jeers, 
 Ministered to Him faithful to the last; 
 And by her side knelt Mary Magdalene, 
 Earnestly gazing on the pallid face 
 Of the descending corse ; her flowing locks 
 Wet with the dew of even, and her heart 
 Heavy with sorrows. Could she all forget 
 The power, that, templed in that lifeless form 
 Had poured upon her troubled soul the oil 
 Of consolation, making pure, and calm, 
 The rough surge, torn by passions curbless storm ? 
 Could she forget the mournful thoughts that stirred 
 His quivering lip upon that fatal morn, 
 When the Cyrenean bore His cruel cross, 
 And, led by impious hands the Saviour trod 
 The solemn death-march of the Son of God, 
 Warning, prophetic, on His weary way
 
 8 
 
 The mourning daughters of Jerusalem 
 
 Of coming doom? Ah! no; for woman's heart, 
 
 In the deep chambers of its secret thought 
 
 Will cherish memories of the eventful past, 
 
 And brood with holy fervency o'er words 
 
 That fall unheeded and unregistered 
 
 In man's insentient bosom ; woman's soul 
 
 Will nerve her to new scenes untried before, 
 
 When the dun shades of woe and grim despair, 
 
 Are dark'ning to their midnight, and the strength 
 
 Of man's proud heart is trembling in its hold. 
 
 Fearless of hate, and daring to be just 
 
 Came Arimathean Joseph, old yet strong, 
 
 His grey beard floating on his muffled breast, 
 
 And his keen eye, with manhood's fiery flash, 
 
 Mocking the quenching breath of time. Around 
 
 His being's pathway Honor poured her gifts, 
 
 And golden Wealth : but he had spurned of Wealth 
 
 And Honor all the dazzling boon they gave ; 
 
 And for his heritage avowed the hated name 
 
 Of the Rejected, Spurned, and Crucified ; 
 
 And when the agony was past to Him 
 
 Who found in life not where to lay His head, 
 
 Gave his own sepulchre, for His triduan couch, 
 
 Him, in his mournful task, with burdened heart, 
 
 Joined Nicodemus, of Judea's sons 
 
 High honored, and exalted, even among 
 
 The grey-haired counsellors and lords of state, 
 
 Wise men and reverend rulers. He by night 
 
 In the deep silence of unnoted hours 
 
 Had sought alone the Holy One of God, 
 
 Who, crownless though a King, with word and work 
 
 Woke the wide world to wonder. There he bowed 
 
 To learn the wisdom of the pure in heart, 
 
 And hear what mortal lips before, though fired
 
 With godlike eloquence, had never spoke, 
 Words of salvation, and eternal life, 
 Wrote by the finger of the Omnipotent 
 In the great volume of His infinite thought, 
 And uttered forth by His anointed Son. 
 Long in sweet converse with that holy Man, 
 (For God was Man and Man was God in Him,) 
 Sat Nicodemus ; to the hallowed words 
 Bending attentive, no unwilling ear ; 
 Firing his spirit with the eternal truth, 
 That, burning like sweet incense in the soul 
 Of the pure Jesus, poured its light abroad 
 To make the nations glad ; and on his heart 
 The word, like seed upon the fruitful earth, 
 Fell, not unblessed ; but, springing into life, 
 Bore the increase of righteousness and joy. 
 His was the voice for Justice and the Right 
 Among the gathered rulers ; mindless he 
 Of the rude taunt, and curling lip of scorn, 
 When back, confounded, the marauders came, 
 Commissioned by that proud and impious band 
 Of mocking magistrates, to seek and bind 
 The Gallilean Prophet. There repulsed 
 His spirit cherished in its secret cell, 
 The words of Him, the spotless Nazarine, 
 Who spoke as man had never ; and his thoughts, 
 Like pilgrims lingering at the hallowed shrine 
 Where some fond presence broodeth, hung above 
 The receding past with a deep fervency, 
 While with the mourners at the blood-stained cross 
 He wrought, preparing for its cold retreat 
 The desolate dwelling of that perfect Soul 
 That warmed in life the great Messiah's clay. 
 Strong hands above let down the nerveless form 
 Of the slain Jesus, on the sinewy arms 
 Of John the well-beloved. Full firm he stood 
 2
 
 10 
 
 Bending beneath the precious load. Nor less 
 
 Rested the weight of sorrow on his soul, 
 
 As memory flew along the stormy track 
 
 Of his existence, and its thousand scenes, 
 
 When of the twelve, he walked, the loved and tried 
 
 Disciple of his Master, o'er the world, 
 
 A weary wanderer with a chosen band 
 
 Of martyr-spirits. He with them had seen 
 
 The living Spirit of God "made manifest" 
 
 Clothed in the mantling robe of mortal clay, 
 
 When the cold arms, now stretched by impious hands 
 
 Across the infernal tree, were lifted up 
 
 In blessing and in prayer ; or to the heart, 
 
 Where ran for blood the God-defying spear, 
 
 Folded the smiling babes, of mother's brought 
 
 For His meek benison. He with them had seen 
 
 The dead, upstarting in their winding sheets, 
 
 Tread the firm earth ; the bruised, the sick, the lame, 
 
 Leaping exultingly and praising God, 
 
 The foul and unclean spirits, tear in wrath 
 
 Their tortured victims, when by Christ rebuked 
 
 They howled their terror, and forsook their prey. 
 
 He saw, beside the walls of Jericho, 
 
 The darkened eye-balls Timeus' son 
 
 Kindle like lightning, at the gentle voice 
 
 Of a benignant Saviour. He had heard 
 
 Words, burning with prophetic eloquence, 
 
 Of cheer, of warning, and of stern rebuke, 
 
 Leap from the lips, that, cold and pallid now 
 
 Were sealed in death ; and oft the kindly glance, 
 
 Now quenched by the King of Terrors, beamed 
 
 In holy love and meekness on him, when 
 
 He, in his fondness, on the bosom hung 
 
 Of his scorned Master, ever drinking in 
 
 The holy spirit, that, like an incense pure 
 
 On the heart's altar burned, of God's anointed ;
 
 11 
 
 And when Genncssarct, from his green repose 
 
 Lashed into fury by tumultuous winds, 
 
 Growled through his granite caves, and opened wide 
 
 His black and hungry jaws, to swallow up 
 
 The reeling barks, where rode the little band 
 
 Of faithful hearts, the meek disciple saw 
 
 The howling storm-god from his dark career 
 
 Roll back the terrors of his ebon car, 
 
 And angry ocean droop his grisly mane, 
 
 Unlock the foldings of his strong embrace 
 
 From the wave girdled bark, and shrink away 
 
 Trembling with terror to his rock-bound lair, 
 
 At the dread fiat of the great Messiah. 
 
 And O ! with Him in his great agony, 
 
 He trod Gethsemane's garden of despair, 
 
 When to His God, and to their God, He poured 
 
 His anguished soul in bitter words of prayer, 
 
 Till the tired watchers slept, and drops of blood 
 
 Wrung from His tortured heart, and driven forth 
 
 In the strong conflict, gathered on His brow. 
 
 Woke from the heaviness of his sleep, he saw 
 
 The insidious Judas give the treacherous kiss 
 
 While all the fiend was lurking in his glance. 
 
 Then came the insults, and the scoffs and jeers 
 
 Of the deriding multitude, who hailed 
 
 With loud hosannahs His triumphal march 
 
 To the celestial city, strewing wide 
 
 His pathway with their garments, and with palms 
 
 Shouting, till all the slumbering air was stirred 
 
 With the untaught and rapturous acclaim 
 
 Of praise and power to David's royal Son ; 
 
 Ah ! soon the change ! Grey rock and mountain cliff 
 
 The home of echo, by her thousand tongues 
 
 Made tremulous with the shout, had scarcely hushed 
 
 The deep vibrations of their answering tones, 
 
 Ere wild and startling through their hundred caves
 
 12 
 
 And earthquake fissures, rang the dreadful shout 
 
 Of "CRUCIFY" from that mad multitude, 
 
 And king and priest and stoled centurion, 
 
 Mocked the Redeemer. Him the Apostle saw, 
 
 Since on His bosom he had fondly hung, 
 
 Crowned with the thorns and led to sacrifice, 
 
 Still to the daughters of Jerusalem 
 
 Breathing prophetic warning ; and he heard 
 
 The loud voice of His agony, when the sun 
 
 Reeled like a drunkard in his darkened course, 
 
 And the earth groan'd. Ah ! then what wasting thought 
 
 Stirred in that breast, as, cold and lifeless, sank 
 
 The form of his lone Master on it. Then 
 
 What memories darted through his stricken soul, 
 
 To wake its broken, unmelodious chords 
 
 To the deep notes of anguish. Yet his grief 
 
 Was a most voiceless sorrow. Tears of wo, 
 
 The silent witnesses of a stricken heart, 
 
 Came gently down, and with the tears of those 
 
 Who with him bended o'er the frigid corse, 
 
 Fell to the sod. Earth cherished in her shrine 
 
 The holy drops, that, falling on her breast 
 
 Told of their sorrows and their deathless love, 
 
 While Hope sunk, fainting, yet full soon to rise 
 
 With new born vigor, in each troubled heart. 
 
 They wrapped the foldings of the spotless shroud 
 Around the Saviour's pallid form, and took 
 From Calvary's brow, and towards the silent tomb, 
 Their funeral march, with mournful step and slow. 
 
 Now from her ebon wing descending Night 
 Shook the bright dew-drops to the weeping earth, 
 Heaven's glittering gems to deck the solemn bier. 
 The dark clouds vanished, melting into air 
 Before the glances of an angel host,
 
 13 
 
 God's flaming ministers : for lo ! that hour 
 Heaven's sapphire walls were rolled in glory back, 
 And pouring numberless, and far along, 
 Bright ranks on ranks of shining seraphim, 
 And fair-haired cherubs, and the golden lyred 
 Archangels, stretched in glorious array ; 
 As when Aurora from her northern caves 
 Leads her red armies o'er the cold blue sky, 
 Far, far away above the retreating clouds, 
 The glowing phalanx rolled in splendor on. 
 Eternal God, low bending from His throne, 
 From the right hand of His Omnipotence, 
 To the bright Angel of Salvation, gave 
 The Banner of the Cross. Unrolled, it blazed 
 Broad over heaven, with all its burnished folds; 
 High on the air upborne in majesty, 
 That farthest lands, and the remotest sons 
 Of earth, might see its brightness and be blessed. 
 Peerless it streamed o'er widowed Palestine. 
 Her mountain peaks, and silent vallies, saw 
 The advancing ensign, as it were the shroud 
 Of her departing glory hung from heaven. 
 The holy shepherds who had seen the star 
 Of Bethlehem blazing on the brow of even, 
 Watching by night their folded flocks, beheld 
 The streaming glory, and they knew the pledge 
 Of earth's redemption. There began the song 
 Of praise and triumph to the spotless Lamb, 
 Whose echo thrills through vast Eternity ! 
 Phenician Sidon saw the fiery front 
 Of heaven illumined by the gorgeous folds 
 Of the unrolling banner ; and old Tyre 
 From the dark ruins of her mouldering walls, 
 Cast one wild glance above her; she knew not 
 The victor ensign of the slaughtered God. 
 In the bright radiance of the glowing beams
 
 14 
 
 Glittered the dew-drops on grey Hermon's brow ; 
 
 The Great Sea kindled, and its crested waves 
 
 Caught the full glare, and mirrored in its deep 
 
 The rolling phalanx, that far down below 
 
 Seemed in bright ranks, another host, to sweep 
 
 Along a nether sky ; and the dark flood 
 
 Whose turbid waters on Gomorrah sleep, 
 
 And buried Sodom with its blackened walls, 
 
 Was laid in light ; and through its waves below 
 
 Glided the struggling rays amid the domes 
 
 And fallen palaces and temples, where 
 
 The great sea-monsters whelped and hid their young ; 
 
 And terrible of old, in thunder poured, 
 
 The red fire fell, and hissing lightnings ran, 
 
 Idumea's lions left their prey untorn, 
 
 And couching, fled the sudden burst of day : 
 
 Her hideous dragons bowed their horrid crests 
 
 And skrunk into their caves. The satyr cried 
 
 To his lone fellow, and the boding owl 
 
 Spoke from the palace wall, and closer coiled 
 
 The yellow scorpion on the shattered hearth ; 
 
 Raven to raven lifted up her voice ; 
 
 And the shrill bittern wheeled her sudden flight 
 
 From the fallen temple, in whose desolate halls 
 
 The fierce wild beasts have made their horrid home, 
 
 Since the right hand of God, in terror reared, 
 
 Bathed his red sword in heaven, and turned its blade 
 
 To smite the nations. Broad and fiery red 
 
 The Arabian deserts, from their trackless wastes 
 
 Gave back the glow, as when, of old, along 
 
 Their burning sands, the blazing column moved 
 
 Before the march of Freedom and of God. 
 
 Egypt beheld, but heeded not, the sign : 
 
 The desert pyramids, revealed in light, 
 
 Stood up, like giant sentinels, to guard 
 
 The eternal empire, and untrembling throne,
 
 15 
 
 Of Desolation in his dreary reign. 
 
 The sage Chaldean, gazing into heaven 
 
 To read the mysteries that are written there 
 
 On the great scroll of infinite nature, saw, 
 
 And wondered at the vision ; but his soul 
 
 Was veiled in darkness, and it caught no joy. 
 
 Seas rolled in splendor, and amid their waves 
 
 The islands brightened in the heavenly beam ; 
 
 Cyprus and Crete, and far Melita, Rhodes, 
 
 Patmos and Samos, with the hundred gems 
 
 On the fair bosom of the Egean sea, 
 
 Were kindled in their deep, blue ocean-home, 
 
 That seemed a heaven with all its blazing stars ; 
 
 The Thracian woods and old Byzantium's towers, 
 
 Beotia's realm, and rich Achaia's fields, 
 
 Slumbered in beauty, as the refulgent host 
 
 Flung out the golden Banner of the Cross 
 
 On the bland air, that, redolent with the scent 
 
 Of blooming mountains, and the rosy vales, 
 
 Was stirred with angel wings. The Ionian wave 
 
 Danced in new glory ; and imperial Rome 
 
 On her seven hills received the glowing beams, 
 
 And tower and temple, and the solemn arch 
 
 Of her eternal capitol, grew bright. 
 
 Broad continents, and the remotest isles that breast 
 
 The wrath of ocean, saw that Banner wave; 
 
 And conscious Nature, from her thousand hills, 
 
 Vallies, and rocks and brightening waters, 
 
 Owned the presence of her God ; while doubt and fear 
 
 And haughty pride, shut out from human eye, 
 
 Save of the tried alone, the glorious sign 
 
 Of man's redemption, full, and perfect wrought. 
 
 The mourning band, saw in their solemn march, 
 
 The ensign wave above the angelic host ; 
 
 And as they gazed upon that bright array, 
 
 Fair, and the foremost of their glowing ranks,
 
 UCSB LIBRARY 
 
 16 
 
 Save the majestic Angel of the Cross, 
 
 Hope waved her mantle o'er them. Full above, 
 
 Throned on a golden cloud sat Victory, 
 
 While white-robed Mercy from her azure eyes, 
 
 Beamed visible gladness on the paths of men, 
 
 Then as they laid their Jesus in the tomb, 
 
 Still gazing upward to the glorious sky, 
 
 Their tear-drops vanished, and their sorrow fled : 
 
 They saw the token, on the wall of heaven, 
 
 Of man's redemption, and they blessed the sign ; 
 
 They knew that brighter and more glorious yet 
 
 That gorgeous Banner should unroll its folds, 
 
 Over earth's moral darkness, and around 
 
 Its outflung splendor, through the years of time, 
 
 Earth's noblest sons should gather, and the pure, 
 
 The meek, the holy and the righteous come, 
 
 Till man's last enemy had bit the dust, 
 
 And all the ransomed millions of the world 
 
 Bowed to the sceptre of Immanuel, 
 
 When angel hands should bear that ensign up 
 
 Before the Redeemed upon their heavenward march, 
 
 And blazing broad above them, plant it on 
 
 THE UPLIFTED BATTLEMENTS OF ETERNITY.