Classic Poem

Oft at the hour of the sun's down going,
Saw he the dead world laid upon the pyre,
Westward from Patmos the mystic heavens glowing,
Waters that were wild, and waves that were afire.

Loud in his ears, a sound of many waters,
Echoed the peoples, their tumults and their din,
Rumours of their wars and tempests of their slaughters,
And thro' the waves smote the fires of their sin!

Then in a moment the tumult of the nations
Hushed was and stilled into a glassy sea,
As once the Voice that moves the constellations
Calmed winds and waves on the Lake of Galilee.

Lo, in the depths a rapture and a wonder!
The fire still burning in the centre of its peace:
In the new heavens, ah, what can ever sunder
The crystal and the fire until the heavens cease?

Wilt Thou not still the raging of the nations,
Calm their wild waves by sin and passion blown,
Mingle the fire of all the generations
With the sea of glass outspread before the Throne!