William Henry Drummond

(13 April, 1854 – 6 April, 1907 / Mohill, County Leitrim)

Saint John Baptist - Poem by William Henry Drummond

THE last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King,
Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild,
Among that savage brood the woods forth bring,
Which he than man more harmless found and mild.
His food was locusts, and what young doth spring
With honey that from virgin hives distill'd;
Parch'd body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing
Made him appear, long since from earth exiled.
There burst he forth: 'All ye, whose hopes rely
On God, with me amidst these deserts mourn;
Repent, repent, and from old errors turn!'
--Who listen'd to his voice, obey'd his cry?
   Only the echoes, which he made relent,
   Rung from their marble caves 'Repent! Repent!'


Comments about Saint John Baptist by William Henry Drummond

  • (1/14/2016 4:26:00 AM)


    somebody edited this....dis not henry (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: food, spring, heaven, god, hope



Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003



[Report Error]