New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1856-01-23
Astu2gork Daily Gribar,te
SAINT CHRIsToPHER-A LEGEND.
ny JOIN cRIrcgLEY PRINCE.

"Mr thoughts aspire, my limbs wax strong"
Said Christopher Of old,
As he lay musing mid the hills,
His focks within the fold;
al fain would serve some mighty power
The highest if may be
And change this dull and dreamy life
For one more wide and free.
He grit his robe about his ons,
And wandered far away,
Until he reached battle-ground,
And mingled with the fray;
Where, with rude strength and dauntess soul
He turned the tide of fight
And snatched wreath from Victory
Ere waned the evening light.
Then the triumphant host bowed down
Before gorgeous shrine,
And seemed to offer words Of praise
Unto King divine.
"a King divine 81" said Christopher,
Where does the Monarch dwell
'"Above, beyond u.s." answered they,
" But where, we cannot tell"
Again he gathered up his robe,
And donned his sandal shoes;
Took staff in hand, and wandered forth.
Not knowing where to choose;
Until, amid the lonesome wild,
He met hermit boar
Who lifted up his kindly eyes,
Ana SCd0utu Iiil " CT Gnu " tts
"where may find the King dvine'''
Out spoke the pilgrim brave;
"Pn serve him with my giant strength
More truly than slave"
Z" His kingdom Is not here, my SOB,
Albeit His cross bear;
Would'st win acceptance 10 His throne.
Lift up thy voice in prayer
81 cannot pray, thou reverend man
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But If brave deeds may aught avail,
These will 1 strive to do
Go" said the hermit, lyon fierce food,
That roars from hill to glen
Dwell on its brink, and watch for work
Serve God by helping men,"
The pilgrim found leafy tent
Beside that dangerous wave,
And daily sought, with yearning zea,
To succor and to save
And when he snatched precious life
From the upbraiding stream,
His good, glad feelings, found their way
Up to the Great Supreme.
One day, there came little child,
With face serenely fair
With loving eyes, divinely mild,
With sunshine in bis hair;
And with voice that thrilled the heart,
The beautsous vision cried,
Come help me- valiant Christopher
Across this angry tide"
The pilgrim took the infant up,
Upon his shoulders broad,
With new emotions in his SOUL
That pleased, yet overawed;
But fercG grew the rivers rush,
And heavier grew the child,
Who almost bowed the stalwar man
Into the torrent wild.
"Oh, river why dost rage and swea
In absence ofthe Storm
And. boy, what art thou that bend
Beneath thy little formP
Press on, good servant" spoke the child.
"Be faithful TO thy word
Thou bears the worlds whole weight to-day,
For am Christ, thy Lord.
~The stream ia passed, thy trial DER,
Blest be thy future powers.
Here plant thy staff; behold how soon
1t blossoms into flowers!
There let it stand, and flourish long,
A witness and sign
OF thy answering fealty
Unto tn eKing divine.
Unseen, unsought, untaught Of men,
Thy purpose pure and plain,
Thou hast foregone earth's specious joys
For thy eternal gain;
give thee language TO inspire
Hearts kindred TO thine own;
Go forth, and strengthen doubtful soals
To seek my Fathers throne
Prone on the ground, st. Christopher
His trembling homage paid,
Whilst on his dropping head the child
A holy blessing laid;
A moment, and the heavenly shape
Had vanished from his eyes,
But transcendent glory streamed
Up to the wondering skies.
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