Classic Poem

I

Once let the Angel blow! —
A peal from the parted heaven,
The first of seven!
For the time is come that was foretold
So long ago!
As the avalanche gathers, huge and cold,
From the down of the harmless snow,
The years and the ages gather and hang
Till the day when the word is spoken:
When they that dwell in the end of time
Are smitten alike for the early crime
As the vials of wrath are broken!

II

Yea, the time hath come;
Though Earth is rich, her children are dumb!
Ye cry: Beware
Of the dancer's floating hair,
And the cymbal's clash, and the sound of pipe and drum!
But the Prophet cries: Beware
Of the hymn unheard, the unanswered prayer;
For ignorance is past,
And knowledge comes at last,
And the burden it brings to you how can ye bear?

III

Again let the Angel blow!
The seals are loosened that seemed to bind
The Future's bliss and woe!
For a shrinking soul, an uncertain mind,
For eyes that see, but are growing blind,
Your landmarks fade and change:
The colors to-day you borrow
Take another hue to-morrow;
The forms of your faith are wild and strange!
Walking, you stagger to and fro:
So, let the Angel blow!

IV

Ah, shall the Angel blow?
Something must have remained,
Something fresh and unstained,
Sprung from the common soil where the virtues grow:
Nay, it is not so!
Art succumbs to the coarser sense,
Greed o'ercometh sweet abstinence;
Of vices young men talk,
In scarlet your women walk,
And the soul of honor that made you proud,
The loftier grace your lives avowed,
Are a passive corpse and a tattered shroud:
What you forget, can your children know?
So, let the Angel blow!

V

Yes, let the Angel blow!
A peal from the parted heaven,
The first of seven; —
The warning, not yet the sign, of woe!
That men arise
And look about them with wakened eyes,
Behold on their garments the dust and slime,
Refrain, forbear,
Accept the weight of a nobler care
And take reproach from the fallen time!