Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SENTINEL OF THE AGES, by IBBIE MCCOLM WILSON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SENTINEL OF THE AGES, by                    
First Line: Under shining, under shadow
Last Line: Brother to the prince of peace.
Subject(s): Fate; God; Jews; Poetry & Poets; Destiny; Judaism


UNDER shining, under shadow,
At the gates of every land,
All adown the lengthening ages,
Men have seen a Sentry stand;
Looming grandly on the beauty
Of the blue day's crystal light,
Then anon, in darkness blending
With mystery of night;
While his meditations linger
Over glories that are past,
And his keen prophetic vision
Sees the good to come, at last.

At the portals of some nations,
We beheld him, as he stands
Pale and haggard, weak and weary,
With his grey head in his hands,
Bowed in retrospective sorrow,
For the infamy and scorn,
For the ages of oppression
By his people meekly borne;
Till his features are transfigured
In a blaze of wrath divine,
And his glassy eyes brim over
With their bitter burning wine.

At another gate we see him,
In the vigor of full prime
Mounted on a stalwart courser,
For some charge or quest sublime;
Be it to go forth to battle,
In a cause of righteous strife,
Winning liberty, or glory,
With the purchase of his life.
Or, at least, to gain his guerdon,
And be named among the great,
By the aid of wealth's distinction,
Or some service to the State.

Otherwhere, we see him, seated
Underneath the arches vast
Of some old arcade, surrounded
With the records of the past.
Over ancient tomes he ponders,
Filled with figures rude and strange,
Yet their contents he deciphers
Through Time's labyrinthine range;
Then to poesy he turneth
And in numbers sweet recites:
Or he wakes the soul of music
In the harp whose chords he smites.

Once again we see him, crouching
On a devastated strand,
Silent as the Sphinx of Egypt
Billowed in the surging sand,
For the lash of persecution,
Heedless of all human right
Fell upon him, watching, waiting,
Till he sank beneath its might.
And he lies there, bruised and bleeding
But a brave old hero still,
Hoping for his destined future,
When his Fate has wrought its will.

Nations, do you know this Sentry,
Keeping guard, for ages long,
Over learning, arts, religion,
Through all cruelty and wrong?
Patient under dire oppression,
While the iron pierced his soul;
With no armor for protection;
With no weapon but a Scroll—
His one treasure; hear him crying,
"Though I die, let this be true!"
Is not his the voice of Jacob?
Yes! it is—it is—the Jew.

Say you that his crime demanded
Punishment from God and men?
Nay! With God alone be vengeance;
He is merciful. But when
Man metes out his ruthless judgments,
With a mad presumption blind,
He wreaks cruelties of demons
On the weaker of his kind.
It is not for his defection
That the Jew has met the sword:
Christians slay their fellow-Christians,
In the name of their own Lord.

Has he sinned—this Jew immortal?
Ay; but he is not alone;
Christ is crucified forever
In the House He calls His own.
Multitudes bow down before Him
And profess to own his sway,
While their hearts are filled with idols,
And they, Judas-like, betray
Him who comes, as their Messiah,
And their fealty would claim;
But they pierce His soul with sorrows,
Shouting praises to His name.

Sinned the Jew? Well; he has suffered.
When he saw his judgment come
He bowed meekly to his sentence;
Like the shorn lamb, he was dumb:
Bearing shame, contempt, revilings,
Grief and anguish, pain and death;
Only saying: "God is holy;
He is One," with latest breath.
Like to Christ, in his submission
He has met a martyr's fate.
But his resurrection cometh;
Though it tarry, he can wait.

Yes! Already we perceive him,
Rising up on every hand;
Gliding into power and station,
With the world's wealth at command.
In the forum, in the senate,
Lo! he wins immortal fame,
Halls of learning, marts of commerce,
Ring with echoes of his name,
On each plane of high endeavor
He is foremost in the strife
Culling everlasting laurels
From the battlefields of Life.

So God's ancient, chosen people
As His Sentinel still stands
With the standard of Jehovah
In the strong, uplifted hands;
With his jewelled breastplate gleaming
On his proudly heaving chest;
And a lamp forever burning,
On his helmet's lofty crest;
While he welcomes the down-trodden
To his hospitable shores.
And in streams of richest bounty
Blessings on his brethren pours.

Standing thus, as great exemplar
To the world, the Jew appears;
Bringing hope, as well as warning,
To Humanity's late years,
Showing how, as King, God ruleth,
When mankind would test His sway,
Yet is tender as a Father
When, as children, they obey.
Prophet, statesman, warrior, scholar,
Israel's glories shall increase,
When he claims his royal birthright;
Brother to the Prince of Peace.





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