Saints Peter and Paul: Poetry from Keble and Newman

Monday, June 29 is the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul (the third weekday Solemnity this June here in the USA). We'll discuss John Keble's poem on "Saint Peter's Day" and glance at a poem or two on Saint Paul written by Saint John Henry Newman on the Son Rise Morning Show.

Keble's poem is inspired by a verse from the First Reading on the Solemnity: "When Herod would have brought him forth, the same night Peter was sleeping". Acts 12:26:

Thou thrice denied, yet thrice beloved,
Watch by Thine own forgiven friend;
In sharpest perils faithful proved,
Let his soul love Thee to the end.

The prayer is heard—else why so deep (5)
His slumber on the eve of death?
And wherefore smiles he in his sleep
As one who drew celestial breath?

He loves and is beloved again—
Can his soul choose but be at rest? (10)
Sorrow hath fled away, and Pain
Dares not invade the guarded nest.

He dearly loves, and not alone:
For his winged thoughts are soaring high
Where never yet frail heart was known (15)
To breathe its vain Affection’s sigh.

He loves and weeps—but more than tears
Have sealed Thy welcome and his love—
One look lives in him, and endears
Crosses and wrongs where’er he rove: (20)

That gracious chiding look, Thy call
To win him to himself and Thee,
Sweetening the sorrow of his fall
Which else were rued too bitterly.

E’en through the veil of sheep it shines, (21)
The memory of that kindly glance;—
The Angel watching by, divines
And spares awhile his blissful trance.

Or haply to his native lake
His vision wafts him back, to talk (22)
With Jesus, ere His flight He take,
As in that solemn evening walk,

When to the bosom of His friend,
The Shepherd, He whose name is Good.
Did His dear lambs and sheep commend, (25)
Both bought and nourished with His blood:

Then laid on him th’ inverted tree,
Which firm embraced with heart and arm,
Might cast o’er hope and memory,
O’er life and death, its awful charm. (30)

With brightening heart he bears it on,
His passport through this eternal gates,
To his sweet home—so nearly won,
He seems, as by the door he waits,

The unexpressive notes to hear (35)
Of angel song and angel motion,
Rising and falling on the ear
Like waves in Joy’s unbounded ocean.—

His dream is changed—the Tyrant’s voice
Calls to that last of glorious deeds— (40)
But as he rises to rejoice,
Not Herod but an Angel leads.

He dreams he sees a lamp flash bright,
Glancing around his prison room—
But ’tis a gleam of heavenly light (45)
That fills up all the ample gloom.

The flame, that in a few short years
Deep through the chambers of the dead
Shall pierce, and dry the fount of tears,
Is waving o’er his dungeon-bed. (50)

Touched he upstarts—his chains unbind—
Through darksome vault, up massy stair,
His dizzy, doubting footsteps wind
To freedom and cool moonlight air.

Then all himself, all joy and calm, (55)
Though for a while his hand forego,
Just as it touched, the martyr’s palm,
He turns him to his task below;

The pastoral staff, the keys of Heaven,
To wield a while in grey-haired might, (60)
Then from his cross to spring forgiven,
And follow Jesus out of sight. 

At first, Keble addresses Our Lord to aid Saint Peter in Herod's jail. Then Keble depicts Saint Peter dreaming of his life with Jesus: how Jesus called him to be His disciple; his denying of Christ thrice; Jesus looking at him after the third denial; the walk near the lake after the Resurrection. Saint Peter even dreams of his own martyrdom but then "turns . . . to his task below" as pastor and holder of the keys.

If we have time on Monday, June 29, we'll look at this poem by Newman, which also recounts a dream: his dream of meeting Saint Paul in answer to a prayer. Newman wrote this poem during his fateful Mediterranean voyage:

97. St. Paul

{168} I DREAM'D that, with a passionate complaint,

I wish'd me born amid God's deeds of might;

And envied those who had the presence bright

Of gifted Prophet and strong-hearted Saint,

Whom my heart loves, and Fancy strives to paint.

I turn'd, when straight a stranger met my sight,

Came as my guest, and did awhile unite

His lot with mine, and lived without restraint.

Courteous he was, and grave,—so meek in mien,

It seem'd untrue, or told a purpose weak;

Yet, in the mood, he could with aptness speak,

Or with stern force, or show of feelings keen,

Marking deep craft, methought, or hidden pride:—

Then came a voice,—"St. Paul is at thy side."

Off Sardinia. June 20, 1833. Earlier during this Mediterranean trip, Newman had written, referring to Acts 28:3: 70. St. Paul at Melita (Malta) {128} "And when Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks, and laid them on the fire, there came a viper out of the heat."  SECURE in his prophetic strength,     The water peril o'er, The many-gifted man at length     Stepp'd on the promised shore. He trod the shore; but not to rest,     Nor wait till Angels came; Lo! humblest pains the Saint attest,     The firebrands and the flame. But, when he felt the viper's smart,     Then instant aid was given; Christian! hence learn to do thy part,     And leave the rest to Heaven. Messina. February 8, 1833.

Saints Peter and Paul, pray for us!

Image source (Public Domain): Saints Peter and Paul ca. 1616 by Jusepe de Ribera (1591-1652)