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James Russell Lowell - Ambrose
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Never, surely, was holier man
Than Ambrose, since the world began;
With diet spare and raiment thin
He shielded himself from the father of sin;
With bed of iron and scourgings oft,
His heart to God`s hand as wax made soft.

Through earnest prayer and watchings long
He sought to know `tween right and wrong,
Much wrestling with the blessed Word
To make it yield the sense of the Lord,      
That he might build a storm-proof creed
To fold the flock in at their need.

At last he builded a perfect faith,
Fenced round about with _The Lord thus saith_;
To himself he fitted the doorway`s size,
Meted the light to the need of his eyes,
And knew, by a sure and inward sign,
That the work of his fingers was divine.

Then Ambrose said, `All those shall die
The eternal death who believe not as I;`      
And some were boiled, some burned in fire,
Some sawn in twain, that his heart`s desire,
For the good of men`s souls might be satisfied
By the drawing of all to the righteous side.

One day, as Ambrose was seeking the truth
In his lonely walk, he saw a youth
Resting himself in the shade of a tree;
It had never been granted him to see
So shining a face, and the good man thought
`Twere pity he should not believe as he ought.      

So he set himself by the young man`s side,
And the state of his soul with questions tried;
But the heart of the stranger was hardened indeed,
Nor received the stamp of the one true creed;
And the spirit of Ambrose waxed sore to find
Such features the porch of so narrow a mind.

`As each beholds in cloud and fire
The shape that answers his own desire,
So each,` said the youth, `in the Law shall find
The figure and fashion of his mind;         
And to each in his mercy hath God allowed
His several pillar of fire and cloud.`

The soul of Ambrose burned with zeal
And holy wrath for the young man`s weal:
`Believest thou then, most wretched youth,`
Cried he, `a dividual essence in Truth?
I fear me thy heart is too cramped with sin
To take the Lord in his glory in.`

Now there bubbled beside them where they stood
A fountain of waters sweet and good:        
The youth to the streamlet`s brink drew near
Saying, `Ambrose, thou maker of creeds, look here!`
Six vases of crystal then he took,
And set them along the edge of the brook.

`As into these vessels the water I pour,
There shall one hold less, another more,
And the water unchanged, in every case,
Shall put on the figure of the vase;
O thou, who wouldst unity make through strife,
Canst thou fit this sign to the Water of Life?`      

When Ambrose looked up, he stood alone,
The youth and the stream and the vases were gone;
But he knew, by a sense of humbled grace,
He had talked with an angel face to face,
And felt his heart change inwardly,
As he fell on his knees beneath the tree.
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