A Ruined Temple
SCENE — A ruined Temple.
F ESTUS AND Lucifer .
F ESTUS . Here will I worship solely.
Lucifer . 'T is a fane
Once sacred to the Sun.
F ESTUS . It matters not
What false god here hath falsely been adored,
Or what life-hating rites these walls have viewed.
The truly holy soul, which hath received
The unattainable, can hallow hell.
Now to the only true and Triune God
These walls shall echo praise, if never yet.
Bring me a morsel of the fire without;
For I will make a sacred offering
To God, as though the High Priest of the world.
He lacks not consecration at best hands
Whom Thou hast hallowed, Lord, by choice; and these,
The elements I offer, Thou hast made
Holy, by making them.
Lucifer . Lo! here is fire.
I will await thee in the air.
F ESTUS . Withdraw!
Thine, Lord! are all the elements and worlds; —
The sun is Thy bright servant, and the moon
Thy servant's servant; — the round rushing earth,
The lifeful air, the thousand winged winds,
The Heaven-kinned fire, the continental clouds,
The sea broad breasted, and the tranced lake,
The rich arterial rivers, and the hills
Which wave their woody tresses in the breeze,
In grateful undulation, all are Thine; —
Thine are the snow-robed mountains circling earth
As the white spirits God the Saviour's throne; —
Thine the bright secrets, central in all orbs,
And rudimental mysteries of life.
The sun-starred night, the ever-maiden morn,
The all-prevailing day, consummate eve,
Confess them Thine through the perpetual world: —
All art hath wrought from earth, or science lured
From truth, like flame out of the fire cloud, are
Thine; — Thine the glory, all belongs to Thee,
Finite, indefinite, and infinite,
As mountains to a world, as worlds to Heaven.
The high doomed city and the toilful town
And early hamlet, — all that live or die,
That flourish or decay, that change, or stand
Before Thy face, unchanged, exist for Thee,
Or are not at Thy bidding; Thine, all souls;
Atom and world, the universe is Thine! —
Thou canst as easily turn Thy kindest eye
From comprehending the bright Infinite,
To this crushed temple, where the wild flower decks
Its earthquake-rifted walls, and the birds build
In corners of its columned capitals, —
And to this crumbling heart I offer here,
As trust Thine own Eternity. Behold!
Accept, I pray Thee, Lord! this sacrifice;
These elemental offerings simple, pure,
Which in the name of man I make to Thee,
Formless, save prostrate soul and kneeling heart —
In taken of Thy perfect monarchy
And all comprising mercy. These are they!
A flowery turf, a branch, a burning coal,
A cup of water and an empty bowl;
This air-filled bowl is typic of the world
Thou fillest with Thy spirit, and the soul,
Receptive of Thy life-conferring truth; —
This the symbolic element wherefrom
We are to be reborn, wherein made pure;
Those whom Thou choosest are to be redeemed
Out of the mighty multitudes of men;
Yet all as of one nature be redeemed.
This coal, torn flaming from the earth, proclaims
Thy sin-consuming mercy as of earth;
And may our souls ever aspire to Thee,
As these pale flames unto the stars; this turf
Is as the earthy nature and abode
We would subject to Thee; and lieth here,
The representative of every star
And world-extended matter! Lord! this branch,
Which waveth high o'er all, oh, let it sign
Thine own Eternal Son's humanity,
Which was on earth, yet ever lives in Heaven,
Redemptive of all Being. Golden Branch!
Which, in the eld-time, seer's and sybil's words,
Full of dark central thought and mystic truth,
Foretold should overspread the spirit world,
And with its fruit heal every wound of Death —
Tree of eternal life, Thee all adore.
Accept this prayer, O Saviour! that if men
Can nothing do but sin, Thou mayst forgive
The creature crime, and bring back all to Thee.
Thou art the one who made the universe;
Yet didst Thou walk on earth; Thou brakest bread
And drankest wine with men, betokening so
Thine own complete, Divine Humanity.
May all obey Thy words and do Thy will!
We praise Thee God, our father; whoso would
Be saved, let him believe in Thee Triune.
Thou doest all things rightly; all are best,
Sorrow, or joy, or power, or suffering.
Providing, therefore, all things that must be
And ought to be, as Thou dost and hast done,
From the beginning even to the end,
This heart let cease from prayer, these lips from praise,
Save that which life shall offer pauselessly.
Now go I forth again refreshed, consoled,
Upon my time-enduring pilgrimage.
Ho! Lucifer!
Lucifer . I wait thee.
F ESTUS . Whither next?
Lucifer . As thou wilt, apposite or opposite.
'Tis light translateth night; 'tis inspiration
Expounds experience; 'tis the west explains
The east: 't is time unfolds Eternity.
F ESTUS AND Lucifer .
F ESTUS . Here will I worship solely.
Lucifer . 'T is a fane
Once sacred to the Sun.
F ESTUS . It matters not
What false god here hath falsely been adored,
Or what life-hating rites these walls have viewed.
The truly holy soul, which hath received
The unattainable, can hallow hell.
Now to the only true and Triune God
These walls shall echo praise, if never yet.
Bring me a morsel of the fire without;
For I will make a sacred offering
To God, as though the High Priest of the world.
He lacks not consecration at best hands
Whom Thou hast hallowed, Lord, by choice; and these,
The elements I offer, Thou hast made
Holy, by making them.
Lucifer . Lo! here is fire.
I will await thee in the air.
F ESTUS . Withdraw!
Thine, Lord! are all the elements and worlds; —
The sun is Thy bright servant, and the moon
Thy servant's servant; — the round rushing earth,
The lifeful air, the thousand winged winds,
The Heaven-kinned fire, the continental clouds,
The sea broad breasted, and the tranced lake,
The rich arterial rivers, and the hills
Which wave their woody tresses in the breeze,
In grateful undulation, all are Thine; —
Thine are the snow-robed mountains circling earth
As the white spirits God the Saviour's throne; —
Thine the bright secrets, central in all orbs,
And rudimental mysteries of life.
The sun-starred night, the ever-maiden morn,
The all-prevailing day, consummate eve,
Confess them Thine through the perpetual world: —
All art hath wrought from earth, or science lured
From truth, like flame out of the fire cloud, are
Thine; — Thine the glory, all belongs to Thee,
Finite, indefinite, and infinite,
As mountains to a world, as worlds to Heaven.
The high doomed city and the toilful town
And early hamlet, — all that live or die,
That flourish or decay, that change, or stand
Before Thy face, unchanged, exist for Thee,
Or are not at Thy bidding; Thine, all souls;
Atom and world, the universe is Thine! —
Thou canst as easily turn Thy kindest eye
From comprehending the bright Infinite,
To this crushed temple, where the wild flower decks
Its earthquake-rifted walls, and the birds build
In corners of its columned capitals, —
And to this crumbling heart I offer here,
As trust Thine own Eternity. Behold!
Accept, I pray Thee, Lord! this sacrifice;
These elemental offerings simple, pure,
Which in the name of man I make to Thee,
Formless, save prostrate soul and kneeling heart —
In taken of Thy perfect monarchy
And all comprising mercy. These are they!
A flowery turf, a branch, a burning coal,
A cup of water and an empty bowl;
This air-filled bowl is typic of the world
Thou fillest with Thy spirit, and the soul,
Receptive of Thy life-conferring truth; —
This the symbolic element wherefrom
We are to be reborn, wherein made pure;
Those whom Thou choosest are to be redeemed
Out of the mighty multitudes of men;
Yet all as of one nature be redeemed.
This coal, torn flaming from the earth, proclaims
Thy sin-consuming mercy as of earth;
And may our souls ever aspire to Thee,
As these pale flames unto the stars; this turf
Is as the earthy nature and abode
We would subject to Thee; and lieth here,
The representative of every star
And world-extended matter! Lord! this branch,
Which waveth high o'er all, oh, let it sign
Thine own Eternal Son's humanity,
Which was on earth, yet ever lives in Heaven,
Redemptive of all Being. Golden Branch!
Which, in the eld-time, seer's and sybil's words,
Full of dark central thought and mystic truth,
Foretold should overspread the spirit world,
And with its fruit heal every wound of Death —
Tree of eternal life, Thee all adore.
Accept this prayer, O Saviour! that if men
Can nothing do but sin, Thou mayst forgive
The creature crime, and bring back all to Thee.
Thou art the one who made the universe;
Yet didst Thou walk on earth; Thou brakest bread
And drankest wine with men, betokening so
Thine own complete, Divine Humanity.
May all obey Thy words and do Thy will!
We praise Thee God, our father; whoso would
Be saved, let him believe in Thee Triune.
Thou doest all things rightly; all are best,
Sorrow, or joy, or power, or suffering.
Providing, therefore, all things that must be
And ought to be, as Thou dost and hast done,
From the beginning even to the end,
This heart let cease from prayer, these lips from praise,
Save that which life shall offer pauselessly.
Now go I forth again refreshed, consoled,
Upon my time-enduring pilgrimage.
Ho! Lucifer!
Lucifer . I wait thee.
F ESTUS . Whither next?
Lucifer . As thou wilt, apposite or opposite.
'Tis light translateth night; 'tis inspiration
Expounds experience; 'tis the west explains
The east: 't is time unfolds Eternity.
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