| HE stood there. Like the smoke | |
| Pillared o’er Sodom, when day broke,— | |
| I saw Him. One magnific pall | |
| Mantled in massive fold and fall | |
| His dread, and coiled in snaky swathes | 5 |
| About His feet: night’s black, that bathes | |
| All else, broke, grizzled with despair, | |
| Against the soul of blackness there. | |
| A gesture told the mood within— | |
| That wrapped right hand which based the chin. | 10 |
| That intense meditation fixed | |
| On His procedure,—pity mixed | |
| With the fulfilment of decree. | |
| Motionless, thus, He spoke to me, | |
| Who fell before His feet, a mass, | 15 |
| No man now. | |
| |
| ‘All is come to pass. | |
| Such shows are over for each soul | |
| They had respect to. In the roll | |
| Of Judgement which convinced mankind | 20 |
| Of sin, stood many, bold and blind, | |
| Terror must burn the truth into: | |
| Their fate for them!—thou hadst to do | |
| With absolute omnipotence, | |
| Able its judgements to dispense | 25 |
| To the whole race, as every one | |
| Were its sole object. Judgement done, | |
| God is, thou art,—the rest is hurled | |
| To nothingness for thee. This world, | |
| This finite life, thou hast preferred, | 30 |
| In disbelief of God’s own word, | |
| To Heaven and to Infinity. | |
| Here the probation was for thee, | |
| To show thy soul the earthly mixed | |
| With heavenly, it must choose betwixt. | 35 |
| The earthly joys lay palpable,— | |
| A taint, in each, distinct as well; | |
| The heavenly flitted, faint and rare, | |
| Above them, but as truly were | |
| Taintless, so, in their nature, best. | 40 |
| Thy choice was earth: thou didst attest | |
| ’Twas fitter spirit should subserve | |
| The flesh, than flesh refine to nerve | |
| Beneath the spirt’s play. Advance | |
| No claim to their inheritance | 45 |
| Who chose the spirit’s fugitive | |
| Brief gleams, and yearned, “This were to live | |
| Indeed, if rays, completely pure | |
| From flesh that dulls them, could endure,— | |
| Not shoot in meteor-light athwart | 50 |
| Our earth, to show how cold and swart | |
| It lies beneath their fire, but stand | |
| As stars do, destined to expand, | |
| Prove veritable worlds, our home.” | |
| Thou saidst,—“Let spirit star the dome | 55 |
| Of sky, that flesh may miss no peak, | |
| No nook of earth,—I shall not seek | |
| Its service further!” Thou art shut | |
| Out of the heaven of spirit; glut | |
| Thy sense upon the world: ’tis thine | 60 |
| For ever—take it!’ | |
| ‘How? Is mine, | |
| The world?’ (I cried, while my soul broke | |
| Out in a transport.) ‘Hast Thou spoke | |
| Plainly in that? Earth’s exquisite | 65 |
| Treasures of wonder and delight, | |
| For me?’ | |
| |
| The austere voice returned,— | |
| ‘So soon made happy? Hadst thou learned | |
| What God accounteth happiness, | 70 |
| Thou wouldst not find it hard to guess | |
| What hell may be His punishment | |
| For those who doubt if God invent | |
| Better than they. Let such men rest | |
| Content with what they judged the best. | 75 |
| Let the unjust usurp at will: | |
| The filthy shall be filthy still: | |
| Miser, there waits the gold for thee! | |
| Hater, indulge thine enmity! | |
| And thou, whose heaven self-ordained | 80 |
| Was, to enjoy earth unrestrained, | |
| Do it! Take all the ancient show! | |
| The woods shall wave, the rivers flow, | |
| And men apparently pursue | |
| Their works, as they were wont to do, | 85 |
| While living in probation yet. | |
| I promise not thou shalt forget | |
| The Past, now gone to its account; | |
| But leave thee with the old amount; | |
| Of faculties, nor less nor more, | 90 |
| Unvisited, as heretofore, | |
| By God’s free spirit, that makes an end. | |
| So, once more, take thy world! expend | |
| Eternity upon its shows,— | |
| Flung thee as freely as one rose | 95 |
| Out of a summer’s opulence, | |
| Over the Eden-barrier whence | |
| Thou art excluded. Knock in vain!’ | |
| I sat up. All was still again. | |
| I breathed free: to my heart, back fled | 100 |
| The warmth. ‘But, all the world!’—I said. | |
| I stooped and picked a leaf of fern, | |
| And recollected I might learn | |
| From books, how many myriad sorts | |
| Of fern exist, to trust reports, | 105 |
| Each as distinct and beautiful | |
| As this, the very first I cull. | |
| Think, from the first leaf to the last! | |
| Conceive, then, earth’s resources! Vast | |
| Exhaustless beauty, endless change | 110 |
| Of wonder! And this foot shall range | |
| Alps, Andes,—and this eye devour | |
| The bee-bird and the aloe-flower? | |
| |
| Then the Voice, ‘Welcome so to rate | |
| The arras-folds that variegate | 115 |
| The earth, God’s antechamber, well! | |
| The wise, who waited there, could tell | |
| By these, what royalties in store | |
| Lay one step past the entrance-door. | |
| For whom, was reckoned, not too much, | 120 |
| This life’s munificence? For such | |
| As thou,—a race, whereof scarce one | |
| Was able, in a million, | |
| To feel that any marvel lay | |
| In objects round his feet all day; | 125 |
| Scarce one, in many millions more, | |
| Willing, if able, to explore | |
| The secreter, minuter charm! | |
| —Brave souls, a fern-leaf could disarm | |
| Of power to cope with God’s intent,— | 130 |
| Or scared if the south firmament | |
| With north-fire did its wings refledge! | |
| All partial beauty was a pledge | |
| Of beauty in its plenitude: | |
| But since the pledge sufficed thy mood, | 135 |
| Retain it! plenitude be theirs | |
| Who looked above!’ | |
| |
| Though sharp despairs | |
| Shot through me, I held up, bore on. | |
| ‘What matter though my trust were gone | 140 |
| From natural things? Henceforth my part | |
| Be less with Nature than with Art! | |
| For Art supplants, gives mainly worth | |
| To Nature; ’tis Man stamps the earth— | |
| And I will seek his impress, seek | 145 |
| The statuary of the Greek, | |
| Italy’s painting—there my choice | |
| Shall fix!’ | |
| |
| ‘Obtain it!’ said the voice, | |
| —‘The one form with its single act, | 150 |
| Which sculptors laboured to abstract, | |
| The one face, painters tried to draw, | |
| With its one look, from throngs they saw… | |
| …‘But through | |
| Life pierce,—and what has earth to do, | 155 |
| Its utmost beauty’s appanage, | |
| With the requirement of next stage? | |
| Did God pronounce earth “very good”? | |
| Needs must it be, while understood | |
| For man’s preparatory state; | 160 |
| Nothing to heighten nor abate: | |
| Transfer the same completeness here, | |
| To serve a new state’s use—and drear | |
| Deficiency gapes every side! | |
| The good, tried once, were had, retried. | 165 |
| See the enwrapping rocky niche, | |
| Sufficient for the sleep, in which | |
| The lizard breathes for ages safe: | |
| Split the mould—and as this would chafe | |
| The creature’s new world-widened sense, | 170 |
| One minute after day dispense | |
| The thousand sounds and sights that broke | |
| In on him at the chisel’s stroke,— | |
| So, in God’s eye, the earth’s first stuff | |
| Was, neither more nor less, enough | 175 |
| To house man’s soul, man’s need fulfil. | |
| Man reckoned it immeasurable? | |
| So thinks the lizard of his vault! | |
| Could God be taken in default, | |
| Short of contrivances, by you— | 180 |
| Or reached, ere ready to pursue | |
| His progress through eternity? | |
| That chambered rock, the lizard’s world, | |
| Your easy mallet’s blow has hurled | |
| To nothingness for ever; so, | 185 |
| Has God abolished at a blow | |
| This world, wherein His saints were pent— | |
| Who, though found grateful and content, | |
| With the provision there, as thou, | |
| Yet knew He would not disallow | 190 |
| Their spirit’s hunger, felt as well,— | |
| Unsated,—not unsatable, | |
| As Paradise gives proof. Deride | |
| Their choice now, thou who sit’st outside! | |
| I cried in anguish, ‘Mind, the mind, | 195 |
| So miserably cast behind, | |
| To gain what had been wisely lost! | |
| Oh, let me strive to make the most | |
| Of the poor stinted soul, I nipped | |
| Of budding wings, else now equipt | 200 |
| For voyage from summer isle to isle! | |
| And though she needs must reconcile | |
| Ambition to the life on ground, | |
| Still, I can profit by late found | |
| But precious knowledge. Mind is best— | 205 |
| I will seize mind, forgo the rest, | |
| And try how far my tethered strength | |
| May crawl in this poor breadth and length. | |
| Let me, since I can fly no more, | |
| At least spin dervish-like about | 210 |
| (Till giddy rapture almost doubt | |
| I fly) through circling sciences, | |
| Philosophies and histories! | |
| Should the whirl slacken there, then verse, | |
| Fining to music, shall asperse | 215 |
| Fresh and fresh fire-dew, till I strain | |
| Intoxicate, half-break my chain! | |
| Not joyless, though more favoured feet | |
| Stand calm, where I want wings to beat | |
| The floor. At least earth’s bond is broke!’ | 220 |
| |
| Then (sickening even while I spoke), | |
| ‘Let me alone! No answer, pray, | |
| To this! I know what Thou wilt say! | |
| All still is earth’s—to know, as much | |
| As feel its truths, which if we touch | 225 |
| With sense, or apprehend in soul, | |
| What matter? I have reached the goal— | |
| “Whereto does Knowledge serve!” will burn | |
| My eyes, too sure, at every turn! | |
| I cannot look back now, nor stake | 230 |
| Bliss on the race, for running’s sake. | |
| The goal’s a ruin like the rest!’ | |
| —‘And so much worse thy latter quest,’ | |
| (Added the voice) ‘that even on earth— | |
| Whenever, in man’s soul, had birth | 235 |
| Those intuitions, grasps of guess, | |
| That pull the more into the less, | |
| Making the finite comprehend | |
| Infinity,—the bard would spend | |
| Such praise alone, upon his craft, | 240 |
| As, when wind-lyres obey the waft, | |
| Goes to the craftsman who arranged | |
| The seven strings, changed them and rechanged— | |
| Knowing it was the South that harped. | |
| He felt his song, in singing, warped; | 245 |
| Distinguished his and God’s part: whence | |
| A world of spirit as of sense | |
| Was plain to him, yet not too plain, | |
| Which he could traverse, not remain | |
| A guest in:—else were permanent | 250 |
| Heaven on earth which its gleams were meant | |
| To sting with hunger for full light— | |
| Made visible in verse, despite | |
| The veiling weakness,—truth by means | |
| Of fable, showing while it screens,— | 255 |
| Since highest truth, man e’er supplied, | |
| Was ever fable on outside. | |
| Such gleams made bright the earth an age; | |
| Now, the whole sun’s his heritage! | |
| Take up thy world, it is allowed, | 260 |
| Thou who hast entered in the cloud!’ | |
| Then I—‘Behold, my spirit bleeds, | |
| Catches no more at broken reeds,— | |
| But lilies flower those reeds above: | |
| I let the world go, and take love! | 265 |
| Love survives in me, albeit those | |
| I love be henceforth masks and shows, | |
| Not loving men and women: still | |
| I mind how love repaired all ill, | |
| Cured wrong, soothed grief, made earth amends | 270 |
| With parents, brothers, children, friends! | |
| Some semblance of a woman yet | |
| With eyes to help me to forget, | |
| Shall live with me; and I will match | |
| Departed love with love, attach | 275 |
| Its fragments to my whole, nor scorn | |
| The poorest of the grains of corn | |
| I save from shipwreck on this isle, | |
| Trusting its barrenness may smile | |
| With happy foodful green one day, | 280 |
| More precious for the pains. I pray, | |
| For love, then, only!’ | |
| |
| At the word, | |
| The form, I looked to have been stirred | |
| With pity and approval, rose | 285 |
| O’er me, as when the headsman throws | |
| Axe over shoulder to make end— | |
| I fell prone, letting Him expend | |
| His wrath, while, thus, the inflicting voice | |
| Smote me. ‘Is this thy final choice? | 290 |
| Love is the best? ‘Tis somewhat late! | |
| And all thou dost enumerate | |
| Of power and beauty in the world, | |
| The mightiness of love was curled | |
| Inextricably round about. | 295 |
| Love lay within it and without, | |
| To clasp thee—but in vain! Thy soul | |
| Still shrunk from Him who made the whole, | |
| Still set deliberate aside | |
| His love!—Now take love! Well betide | 300 |
| Thy tardy conscience! Haste to take | |
| The show of love for the name’s sake, | |
| Remembering every moment Who, | |
| Beside creating thee unto | |
| These ends, and these for thee, was said | 305 |
| To undergo death in thy stead | |
| In flesh like thine: so ran the tale. | |
| What doubt in thee could countervail | |
| Belief in it? Upon the ground | |
| “That in the story had been found | 310 |
| Too much love! How could God love so?’ | |
| He who in all His works below | |
| Adapted to the needs of man, | |
| Made love the basis of the plan,— | |
| Did love, as was demonstrated: | 315 |
| While man, who was so fit instead | |
| To hate, as every day gave proof— | |
| Man thought man, for his kind’s behoof, | |
| Both could and did invent that scheme | |
| Of perfect love—’twould well beseem | 320 |
| Cain’s nature thou wast wont to praise, | |
| Not tally with God’s usual ways!’ | |
| |
| And I cowered deprecatingly— | |
| ‘Thou Love of God! Or let me die, | |
| Or grant what shall seem Heaven almost! | 325 |
| Let me not know that all is lost, | |
| Though lost it be—leave me not tied | |
| To this despair, this corpse-like bride! | |
| Let that old life seem mine—no more— | |
| With limitation as before, | 330 |
| With darkness, hunger, toil, distress: | |
| Be all the earth a wilderness! | |
| Only let me go on, go on, | |
| Still hoping ever and anon | |
| To reach one eve the Better Land!’ | 335 |
| |
| Then did the form expand, expand— | |
| I knew Him through the dread disguise, | |
| As the whole God within his eyes | |
| Embraced me. | |
