Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1878-11-11
THE DEATH OF ST. JOHN.

''The last Of the apostles died a natural death at
Ephesus aged one hundred years."
I'm growing old
This weary head that hath so often leaned
On Jesus breast in days long past so long
They almost seem a dream, is bent and hoary
With the weight of years. These limbs that followed
My Masterl of from Galilee to Judah. him.
Yea. that once stood beneath the and trembled
At his groans, no longer bear through the streets
To preach unto my children. Even my lips
Refuse to form the words my heart sends forth.
My ears are dull; they scarcely hear the sob
or my dear children gathered round my couch.
My eyes are dim; they cannot see their tears.
God lays his hand upon me- yea, his hand
And not his rod; that gentle hand that through
Those years so often pressed upon my own
In friendship such as passed woman's love.
I'm old. so oldI cannot know your faces,
And forget the words and deeds of life.
But his dear face and every word he spoke
Grows more distinct as others fade away.
Till now with him and with the holy dead
More than with those around me do live.
Seventy years ago
was fisher by the sacred sea.
1t was at sunset and the tranquil tide
Kissed dreamiy the pebbles. How the light crept up
The distant hills, and in its wake the shadows,
Soft purple shadows, wrapt the pleasant fields.
And then he came and called me. Then gazed'
For the first time on that dear face. Those eyes
From which, as from q window shone divinity,
Looked first within my soul and lighted it
Foreverl
Then his words broke ON the silence of my soul
And made the whole earth musical Incarnate love
Took hold Of me and claimed me for its own.
followed in the twilight holding fast his MANTLE
What holy walks we had through harvest fields
Or dreary desolate watersl And oftentime
He leaned upon my arm, weary and wayworn.
was young and strong and So upbore him.
Now, Lord I'm weak and old and feeble,
Let me rest on thee. Sol put thine around me
| Closer still. How strong thou art
The twilight draws apace,
Come let us leave these noisy streets and take
The path to Bethany. There Mary's smile
Awaits us at the gate, and Martha's hands
Have long prepared the cheerful evening meal
Come, Jamesl the Master waits and Peter, see,
Has gone some steps before us.
What say you, friends?
That this is Ephesus, and that Christ has gone
Back to his kingdom? Aye tits so, tits so.
know it ALL and yet just now 1 seemed
To stand once more upon my native hills,
The touching of his garments bring back strength
| To palsed limbs. feel that touch on mine
| Upi bear me to my church. Once more, once more,
oh, let me tell them of my saviours love,
For by the sweetness of my Masters voice
think he must be near, be very near,
| Coming, trust, to rend the veil which time
Has worn so thin that l. beyond it, watch
His blessed footsteps
| So raise up my head, it's dark; how dark
cannot see the faces of my flock.
| Is 1t the murmuring sea. or is it weeping?
Hush, my little childrenl God SO loved the world
| He gave his Son; SO love ye one another.
Love God and man amen Now bear me back,
My legacy unto an angry world is left;
| My work is finished.
Are the streets so fullg
How call the folk my name? The holy John?
| Nay rather write Beloved OF Jesus Christ
And lover of his children.
Lay me now once more upon my restful couch:
Throw WIDE the eastern windows See. there comes
| Alght like that which broke upon my SOUL
| When in the dreary Patmos Gabriel came
And touched me on the shoulder. See it grows
As when we mounted toward the pearly gates.
know the way. trod it once before And harki
1t is the song the ransomed sing praisng the Lamb.
How loud it sounds. Oh, that unwritten song
Ny soul. methiHks. could join It.
But who are these who crowd the shining way?
Joyl joy we all are here. see Peter first
How eagerly he looks, how bright the smile
Upon my brothers face. 1 am the last
Once more we are complete, to gather round
The Paschal feast. Ny place is next my Master
oh, my Lord, my Lord;
I've fed thy lambs, thou knowest all my love.
How bright thou art. and yet the very same
I loved in Galilee. Oh. tis worth
The hundred years of earth to feel such bliss
So! lift me up, dear lord,
Into thy bosom; there shall 1 abide