The Ancient Banner | Page 3

loins all girded, he put off?His earthly shackles, triumphing in death,?That the Seed reigned, and Truth was over all!?Where the dark waters of the Delaware,?Roll onward to the ocean, sweeping by,?Primeval forests, where the red man still,?Built his rude wigwam, and the timid deer?Fled for concealment from the Indian's eye,?And the unerring arrow of his bow;?There, in the shadow of these ancient woods,?A sea-worn ship has anchored. On her deck,?Men of grave mien are gathered. One of whom,?Of noble figure, and quick searching eyes,?Surveys the scene, wrapt in the deepest thought.?And this is William Penn. He stands among,?Fellow believers, who have sought a home,?And place of refuge, in this wilderness.?Born of an ancient family, his sire?An English Admiral, the youthful Penn,?Might, with his talents, have soon ranked among?The proudest subjects of the British throne.?He chose the better part--to serve that King?Who is immortal and invisible.?While yet a student within college halls,?He heard Truth's message, and his heart was reached,?And fully owned it, though it came through one?Of that despised and persecuted class,?Called in derision Quakers. Thus convinced,?He left the college worship, to commune?In spirit with his Maker. And for this,?He was expelled from Oxford; and was soon?Maltreated by his father, who, enraged,?Because his only son, had turned away?From brilliant prospects, to pursue the path?Of self-denial, drove him harshly forth?From the paternal roof. But William Penn,?Had still a Father, who supported him,?With strength and courage to perform his will;?And he was called and qualified to preach,?And to bear witness of that blessed Light?Which shines within. He suffered in the cause,?His share of trial. He was dragged before?Judges and juries, and was shut within?The walls of prisons.?Looking abroad through England, he was filled?With deep commiseration, for the jails--?The loathsome, filthy jails--were crowded with?His brethren in the Truth. For their relief,?He sought the ear of royalty, and plead?Their cruel sufferings; and their innocence;?And thus became the instrument through which?Some prison doors were opened. But he sought?A place of refuge from oppression's power,?That Friends might worship the Creator there,?Free from imprisonment and penalties.?And such a place soon opened to his view,?Far in the Western Wilderness, beyond?The Atlantic's wave.?And here is William Penn, and here a band?Of weary emigrants, who now behold?The promised land before them; but it is?The Indian's country, and the Indian's home.?Penn had indeed, received a royal grant,?To occupy it; but a grant from one?Who had no rightful ownership therein;?He therefore buys it honestly from those?Whose claims are aboriginal, and just.?With these inhabitants, behold, he stands?Beneath an ancient elm, whose spreading limbs?O'erhang the Delaware. The forest chiefs?Sit in grave silence, while the pipe of peace?Goes round the circle. They have made a league?With faithful Onas--a perpetual league,?And treaty of true friendship, to endure?While the sun shines, and while the waters run.?And here was founded in the wilderness,?A refuge from oppression, where all creeds?Found toleration, and where truth and right?Were the foundation of its government,?And its protection. In that early day,?The infant colony sought no defence?But that of justice and of righteousness;?The only guarantees of peace on earth,?Because they ever breathe, good will to men.?His colony thus planted, William Penn?Sought his old field of labour, and again,?Both through the press and vocally, he plead?The right of conscience, and the rights of man;?And frequently, and forcibly he preached?Christ's universal and inshining Light.?His labour was incessant; and the cares,?And the perplexities connected with?His distant province, which he visited?A second time, bore heavily upon?His burdened spirit, which demanded rest;--?That rest was granted. In the midst of all?His labour and his trials, there was drawn?A veil, in mercy, round his active mind,?Which dimmed all outward things; but he still saw?The beauty and the loveliness of Truth,?And found sweet access to the Source of good.?And thus, shut out from the perplexities?And sorrows of the world, he was prepared?To hear the final summons, to put off?His tattered garments, and be clothed upon?With heavenly raiment.?Scotland, thou hadst a noble citizen,?In him of Ury! Born amid thy hills,?Though educated where enticing scenes,?Crowd giddy Paris, he rejected all?The world's allurements, and unlike the youth?Who talked with Jesus, Barclay turned away?From great possessions, and embraced the Truth.?He early dedicated all the powers?Of a well cultivated intellect?To the Redeemer and His holy cause.?He was a herald, to proclaim aloud,?Glad tidings of salvation; and his life?Preached a loud sermon by its purity.?Not only were his lips made eloquent,?By the live coal that touched them, but his pen,?Moved by a force from the same altar, poured?Light, truth, and wisdom. From it issued forth?The great Apology, which yet remains?One of the best expositors of Truth?That man has published, since that sacred book?Anciently written. Seekers are still led?By its direction, to that blessed Light,?And inward Teacher, who is Jesus Christ.?But now, this noble servant of the Lord,?Rests from his faithful labour, while his works?Yet follow him.?Early believers in