Poem by Charlotte Eliza Dixon

Buried with Christ in Baptism

YES! I have lain me in thy liquid grave,
SON of the HIGHEST! buried in its depth,
There planted in the likeness of Thy death,
Emerging from the limpid element,
To follow Thee in newness of the life,
As Thou didst burst the Monarch's icy chain,
And soar away into Thy native heaven!
But oh, my murder'd LORD! how, how unlike!
Sinless thou slep'st within Thy early grave,
And sinless rose again! while I, alas!
Descended underneath the lucid tide,
With heart so treacherous, so full of sin,
And rose from its fair surface still the same,
Not one corruption left amid the flood,
As prone to wander to forbidden things,
And waste my energies of  all but--Thee!
'Twas not Thy will, Thou high and lofty One,
The re-creation of the Soul elect
Should Sin eradicate; but in Thy word
There is a promise dearer than my life,
That though its cursed seeds are still within,
It shall not tyrannise o'er new-born souls,
Or hold dominion o'er the Child of Heaven!
Then be it so--Thy promises are sure!
That shall suffice my weary, aching heart!

1. To G. C. Smith
2. To J. S.
3. On the Songs of Solomon
4. Gethsemane

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