The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker Edited from the original manuscripts and annotated copies together with a prefatory notice and bibliography by Alfred Wallis |
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THE COMET OF 1861. |
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 | The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker |  |
THE COMET OF 1861.
“Terroresque de cœlo et signa magna.”—S.Luc. xxi. ii.
Whence art thou, sudden comet of the sun?
In what far depths of God thine orient place?
Whence hath thy world of light such radiance won
To gleam and curve along the cone of space?
In what far depths of God thine orient place?
Whence hath thy world of light such radiance won
To gleam and curve along the cone of space?
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Why comest thou, weird wanderer of the air?
What is thine oracle for shuddering eyes?
Wilt thou some myth of crownless kings declare,
Scathed by thy fatal banner of the skies?
What is thine oracle for shuddering eyes?
Wilt thou some myth of crownless kings declare,
Scathed by thy fatal banner of the skies?
Or dost thou glide, a seething orb of doom,
Bristling with penal fires, and thick with souls—
The severed ghosts that throng thy peopled womb,
Whom Azrael, warder of the dead, controls?
Bristling with penal fires, and thick with souls—
The severed ghosts that throng thy peopled womb,
Whom Azrael, warder of the dead, controls?
Throne of some lost archangel, dost thou glare,
After long battle, on that conquering height?
Vaunt of a victory that is still despair,
A trophied horror on the arch of night?
After long battle, on that conquering height?
Vaunt of a victory that is still despair,
A trophied horror on the arch of night?
But lo! another dream: thou starry god,
Art thou the mystic seedsman of the sky?
To shed new worlds along thy radiant road,
That flow in floods of billowy hair on high?
Art thou the mystic seedsman of the sky?
To shed new worlds along thy radiant road,
That flow in floods of billowy hair on high?
Roll on! yet not almighty: in thy wrath
Thou bendest like a vassal to his king;
Thou darest not o'erstep thy graven path,
Nor yet one wanton smile of brightness fling.
Thou bendest like a vassal to his king;
Thou darest not o'erstep thy graven path,
Nor yet one wanton smile of brightness fling.
Slave of a Mighty Master! be thy brow
A parable of night, in radiance poured:
Amid thy haughtiest courses, what art thou?
A lamp to lead some pathway of the Lord!
A parable of night, in radiance poured:
Amid thy haughtiest courses, what art thou?
A lamp to lead some pathway of the Lord!
Morwenstow, July, 1861.
| The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker | |