Classic Poem

Morn, like a maiden glancing o'er her pearls,
Streamed o'er the manna-dew, as though the ground
Were sown with starseed; — and the angels rose,
Each from his hallowed couch, and — duly made
The sole oblation of the heart to God —
Stood ready for departure; taking leave,
For a brief space, of their beloved compeers;
With many an ardent longing for the way,
As yet untried — 'neath such sweet leadership.

At length the last embrace, last look, exchanged,
High upward the bright bevy, like to light
Out of the crowned north, — shot; on and on,
Through firmamental fields of furthest space,
Till at the brink of a vast river they
Arriving, halted, which pervaded Heaven; —
Swift as a cataract, yet unbroken, still
And level as the mean line of the sea.
Thick with chaotic matter and unformed —
Like the volcanic blood which bounds unseen
In veins of lightning through earth's cavernous heart —
Mid ruined orbs, like broken ice-lumps, rolled,
Melting and crumbling, to the ocean deeps
Of vast eternity, it gushed along.
Its depths were darkness self; but every wave,
Which curled out of the mass, seemed light alive,
Though but an instant.

On an eminent height,
Which overpeered the stream, the angels sate.
Then said the angel leader to the rest,
What see ye past the river? And they said,
We nothing see beyond. Athwart this stream,
If stream it be — and not a shoreless main —
Is more than we can ken.

But I, returned
The questioner, see beyond the clear bright land
Of Heavenly immortality, mine own
By birthright and by gift; and thither, we.

Descending to the shore, he stooped, and dipped
Into the stream his hand; which filling full,
He tasted and thus spake. Ye waters — once
Of death — but now of life eternal, take
Back the libation I have made of ye;
And be ye changed for ever. Uttering this,
He cast the dark remainder in the flood,
That instant changed into a flood of life,
Flashing with light celestial to its depths
Of bottomless infinitude; — and straight,
Grasping the bright branch of an olive tree,
Which bowered with verdant gold the peaceful shore,"
He therewith sprinkled, one by one, the band
Who him accompanied; with these pure rites
Making them free, initiate into Heaven,
And death the lesser mysteries of life.

The solemn marvel of these gladsome deeds,
Each heart lit up with self evolving joy.
And round him all stood linked in one embrace.

Behold, he said; for fit it is that now
We keep our course; and close below there lay,
Moored but a little distance from the side,
A crescent-boat, translucent as a star,
Wherein they all embarked, in godly dread.

If lightning were the gross corporeal frame
Of some angelic essence, whose bright thoughts
As far surpassed in keen rapidity,
The lagging action of his limbs as doth
Man's mind his clay; with like excess of speed
To animated thought of lightning, flew
That moon-horned vessel o'er life's deeps divine; —

Far past the golden isles of memory
Where only names exist and things are not;
Mingled wherewith a cloudy counterpart
Mocks every islet, and therein are lost
Those upon whom the bright seductive sea
Smiles, wreckful; and sincerest smoothness feigns.

They went, they knew not how. It was as though
The finite, mingling with the infinite,
Produced an utter ravishment and sense
Of o'erabundant reason. At the last,
Heaven's azure shores they made, and leapt on land.

Scarce had they touched that land of life, when lo!
From every footfall, like soft waves of light,
A murmuring music sprang, as if its own
It welcomed to its bosom, with soft joy
Rejoicing inwardly. The sacred soil,
To this premortal music vibrating,
The same which Faith hears in the still of Time —
Their chief saluted; kneeling, likewise, they.
Then he embraced them all and each in turn.

Here let us build, said he, a tower of light;
That all upon the further side may know
We have in safety crossed the flood. Himself
Placed the foundation-stone, and one by one,
Masses of dazzling adamant which starred
The shining shore, like flowers that fringe the banks
Of woodland brook, they piled up altarwise
At his command. On every stone engraved,
In gleamy darkness, was the name of God ;
For every star a stone; and every name
A separate title symbolising love.
A sheaf of lightning on the head he placed,
Which with the skies innate communion held,
And burned in correspondence. Thus was all
With the pure blessing of perfection crowned.