1 Thessalonians V. 19. Poem by Mary Anne Browne

Quench not the Spirit.


QUENCH not the holy fire
That, from the altar of the heart, would rise
In full and pure desire
Unto its kindred glories in the skies;
Oh! sooner strive, with some cold mist of earth,
To quench the lightning's flame, that hath in heaven its birth.

Stay not the spirit's flight,
In its proud soarings to a higher sphere,
Where it may rest in light,
Whose faint reflection only bathed it here;
Oh! sooner wish to bind the eagle's wing,
That towards the orb of day would on strong pinion spring.

Strive not to stem the stream
Of blessed feeling flowing in the soul,
That, lit with many a beam,
Sent from the Sun of Righteousness, doth roll:
Oh sooner strive to turn some stainless spring,
And bid it thro' the wilderness go wandering.

But cheer the spirit on
With hopes with courage, with undying faith;
Tell it how saints have gone,
With song and triumph, through the vale of death;
And let it never, never rest, until
It sitteth on the top of Zion's holy hill!