Classic Poem

Then said that Form who sat in Judgment there:
" Ye saw a mirage and ye thought it fair,
He brought a gospel and ye found it sweet,
Yea, deemed it heavenly manoa and did eat,
Yet were ye empty still and never fed.
This man has given ye husks to eat, not bread.
He said " There is no Death! " yet Death doth reign.
He promised you a gift no man may gain,
Yea, Life that shall endure eternally,
And told ye of a God no eye shall see,
Because He is not! Bid him lift his hand
And show the Life Divine and Heavenly Land,
Bid him arise and take his Throne and reign!
He cannot, for he knoweth he dream'd in vain,
And empty of his hope he stands at last,
Now the full measure of his power hath pass'd.
Not yours the sin, poor Shadows of the Dead,
Not yours the shame, which rests upon his head
As dust and ashes. Back to your graves, and sleep!
We judge the Shepherd, not the blameless sheep
Who gather'd on the heights to hear his voice
Cry down to deep on deep " Rejoice! rejoice! "
Fringe of his raiment that is riven and rent,
Breath of his nostrils that is lost and spent,
Thin echoes of his voice from out the tomb,
Go by. This man is ours, to judge and doom."

He spake; and quietly, without a word,
The Christ bow'd down His head, but those who heard,
His remnant, wringing hands and making moan,
Cried: " Lord, thou hearest? Speak — and take thy Throne!
Still these wild waters of Humanity,
Walking thereon, as once on Galilee!
Our graves lie open yonder, but we are fain
To wake with thee and never to sleep again —
Unfold thy Heavens, and bid these clouds give place,
That we may look upon the Father's face!"

And Jesus answer'd not, but shook and wept.

Then the grey Mother to His bosom crept,
And with her thin hands touch'd His sad grey hair,
Saying, " My Son, My First-born! Let me share
Thy failure or Thy glory! Free or bound,
Cast down into the dust or throned and crown'd,
Thou art still my Son!" and kneeling at His feet,
That other Mary, gazing up to meet
The blessing of His eyes, cried " Holy be
Thy Name, for all the joy it brought to me!
Not for thy Godhead did I hold thee dear,
Not for thy Father, who hath left thee here
Helpless, unpitied, homeless 'neath the skies,
But for the human love within thine eyes!
And wheresoe'er thou goest, howsoe'er
Thou fallest, tho' it be to Hell's despair,
I, thy poor handmaid, still would follow thee,
For in thy face is Love's Eternity.
And tho' thou art of all the World bereaven,
Still, where thou art, Beloved, there is Heaven!"

As some white Alpine peak, wrapt round with cloud,
Suddenly sweeps aside its clinging shroud
Of gloomy mists and vapours dark and chill,
And shines in lonely splendour clear and still,
With gleams of stainless ice and snow thrice shriven,
Against the azure of the opening Heaven,
So that the soul is shaken unaware
With that new glory desolately fair, —
E'en so the Christ, uprising suddenly
To loneliness of lofty sovereignty,
Cast off the darkness of despair and tower'd
High o'er the shadows that beneath Him cower'd!
Then all was hush'd, white on His hoary head
Light from a million spheres was softly shed,
Fire from a million worlds that lit the Night
Fell on His face miraculously bright,
And even that Judge who watch'd Him from afar
Seem'd but a storm-cloud shrinking 'neath a Star!
And thus, while heavenly anger lit His cheek
As still sheet-lightning lights the snowy peak,
He answered:
" Woe! eternal Woe! be yours
Who scorn the Eternal Pity which endures
While all things else pass by! Your lips did thirst —
I brought ye water from the Founts which burst
Beneath the bright tread of My Father's feet!
Ye hunger'd, and I brought ye food to eat —
Manna, not husks or ashes: these ye chose,
And me, the living Christ, ye braised with blows
And would have slain once more, and evermore!
Ye revell'd, and I moan'd without your door
Outcast and cold; ye sinned in my Name,
And flung me then the raiment of your shame;
Ye turn'd the heart of the Eternal One
" Gainst you, his children, and 'gainst me, his Son,
So that my promise grew a dream forlorn,
And all I sow'd in love, ye reapt in scorn.
Woe to ye all I and endless Woe to Me
Who deem'd that I could save Humanity!
The Father knew men better when he sent
His angel Death to be his instrument
And smite them ever down as with a sword!
Instead of Death, I offer'd ye my Word!
My Light, my Truth, my Life! — I wasted breath,
For though I gave ye these, ye turn'd to Death!
And I, your Lord, for love of you, denied
My soul the sleep it sought, and rose to guide
Your footsteps in the Land we ne'er shall gain,
Because at last I know my Dream was vain!
I plough'd the rocks, and cast in rifts of stone
The seeds of Life Divine that ne'er have grown;
I labour'd and I labour, last and first,
Within a barren Vineyard God hath curst;
And now the Winter of mine age is here,
And one by one like leaves ye disappear,
While I, a blighted Tree, abide to show
The Woe of all Mankind, the eternal Woe
Which I, your Lord, must share!"


Even so He spake,
Pallid in wrath; but as low murmurs wake
Under the region of the Peak, and rise
To thunders answered from the thund'ring skies,
While cataract cries to cataract, and o'er-head
Heaven darkens into anger deep and dread,
Cries from the shadowy legions answer'd Him,
Wild voices wail'd and all the Void grew dim,
With cloud on cloud. So that serene and Face
Was blotted out of vision for a space,
And out of darkness on that radiant form
Sprang the fierce pards and panthers of the Storm!
Then the Earth trembled, and the crimson levin
Shot swift and lurid o'er the vaults of Heaven,
And thunder answer'd thunder with crash on crash
As beast doth beast, but at each lightning-flash
I saw Him standing pale and terrible,
Unseath'd yet swathen as with fire from Hell!

But lo, from out the darkness round His feet
There came a voice most passionately sweet
Crying " Adonal! Lord! Forgive us, even
Altho' our sins be seventy times seven!
Comfort the remnant of thy flock and bless
Thy Well Beloved!" — and my Soul could guess
Whose voice had called, for at the voice's sound
He trembled and He reach'd towards the ground
With eager trembling hands; and at the touch
Of her who had loved not wisely, but too much.
His force fell from Him, and He wept aloud,
While heavily His hoary head was bowed
In utter impotence of Deity!