BETA

St. Anthony of Coma.

By Sir Noel Paton .

I.

Yes, I am Anthony the Eremite ;1
And here it was, as pilgrims soothly tell,2
I fought and overcame the Hosts of Hell3
That did assail me ; through the infinite4
Mercy of Heaven. At first, with jeer and
yell5
They strove to shake my faith’s proud citadel ;6
Then gold and power they proffered. Still the
might7
Of prayer prevailed. But when beside me
stood—8
Last lure and worst!—with music and perfume9
Of pomegranates, a woman in youth’s bloom—10
Alone, ungarmented—my frozen blood,11
Flushed by wild visions of unknown delight,12
As lava glowed. Trembling, the Sacred Name13
One more I called, and she, too, fled in sul-
phurous flame.14

II.

The midnight darkness and the desert calm15
Flowed round me, as—like one from imminent
death16
Dragged back—with hurrying heart and
labouring breath17
I lay ; while through the silence rose a psalm—18
Far-heard and sweet—that poured its heavenly
balm19
On my bruised spirit. For still, though victory20
Was mine, that Phantasm seemed to hover nigh21
And not for me was yet the saintly palm !22
Therefore I stand on guard, and watch alway,23
Lest peradventure in some drowsing hour24
Again the subtle Fiend assert his power,25
And the once rescued soul even yet be lost.26
For not for ever will the Holy Ghost27
Strive with man’s obdurate heart. So, watch
thou too, and pray !28