Classic Poem

I gazed — it was the paschal night —
In vision on the starry sphere:
Like suns the stars made broad their light:
Then knew I earth to heaven drew near.

The thrones of darkness down were hurled;
The veil was rent; the bond was riven:
Then knew I that man's little world
Had reached its home — the heart of heaven.

Made strong by God, mine eyes with awe
Still turned from star-changed sun to sun
That ringed the earth in ranks, and saw
A spirit o'er each, that stood thereon.

And lo! by every spirit stood
More high, the venerable Sign:
Then knew I that the atoning blood
Had reached that sphere; the blood divine.

From orb to orb an anthem passed;
" The blessing of the Lord of all
Hath reached us from the least and last
Of stars that gem the heavenly hall;

" For He, that greatest, loves the least;
Puts down the mighty, lifts the low:
On earth began His bridal feast:
Our triumph is its overflow! "

Then earth, that great " new earth " foretold,
Assumed, at last, her glories new —
Or were they hers indeed of old,
Though veiled so long from mortal view?

While — with her changing — far and wide
Those worlds around her, blent in one,
Became that " city of the bride "
Which needs no light of moon or sun.

Their glory had not suffered change;
Their vastness ever vaster grew,
As golden street and columned range,
To one unmeasured temple drew.

There stood the saints by suffering proved,
Exiles from God to God returned;
And near them those our childhood loved;
Revered the most; the longest mourned.

Ere long through all that throbbing frame
Of things beheld and things unseen
Rolled forth that name which none can name,
Celestial music, not terrene:

And down that luminous infinite
I saw an altar and a throne,
And, near to each, a Form, all light,
That, resting, moved, and moved alone:

But if He filled that throne, or knelt
That altar nigh, or lamb-like lay,
I saw not. This I saw, and felt,
That Son of Man was God for aye.

That Son of Man arose and stood,
And from His vest, more white than snow,
Slowly there dawned a cross of blood
That through the glory seemed to grow:

Above the heavens His hands He raised
To bless those worlds whose race was run;
And lo in either palm there blazed
The blood-red sign of victory won;

That blood the Bethlehem shepherds eyed,
Warming His cheek who slept apart:
That blood He drew, the Crucified,
Far-fountained from His mother's heart.