Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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COLLOQUIUM CUM DEO. |
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 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
COLLOQUIUM CUM DEO.
“Come, now, and let us reason,” said the Lord,
“In peace of night and purple weather,
And I will listen to my servant's cry!”
But he was leaning on His judgment sword,
When we in silence talked together.
I said, “This little fleece of ours is dry,
Nor do thy blessed fountains yet afford
To silver one dear swallow's feather,
When round us dew is falling pleasantly.”
Heaven opened to my reach
And in the quiet spake a little bird, and brake
The waters on the beach.
“In peace of night and purple weather,
And I will listen to my servant's cry!”
But he was leaning on His judgment sword,
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I said, “This little fleece of ours is dry,
Nor do thy blessed fountains yet afford
To silver one dear swallow's feather,
When round us dew is falling pleasantly.”
Heaven opened to my reach
And in the quiet spake a little bird, and brake
The waters on the beach.
“Acquaint thyself with Me, and I will stanch
Thy trouble,” said the Lord, and nearer
He drew to me and veiled the awful fire,
And in His hand he held an olive branch.
“Though thou, my earthly son, art dearer
Than words can tell, yet vain is that desire;
To know why on some separate rock or ranch
Rain comes not, while I am a Hearer
Still of the prayers that up to heaven aspire.”
And in the dreadful calm
Which for a moment fell, a wind began to swell
And lifted up a psalm.
Thy trouble,” said the Lord, and nearer
He drew to me and veiled the awful fire,
And in His hand he held an olive branch.
“Though thou, my earthly son, art dearer
Than words can tell, yet vain is that desire;
To know why on some separate rock or ranch
Rain comes not, while I am a Hearer
Still of the prayers that up to heaven aspire.”
And in the dreadful calm
Which for a moment fell, a wind began to swell
And lifted up a psalm.
I hid my face in humble fear, and bent
Before His solemn presence kneeling;
But then once more in gentleness He spake,
As one who played on some poor instrument
That owned but uttered not his feeling.
“To learn the least in truth thou must awake,
And comprehend the whole of continent
Or isle and every system wheeling
Through Space, for all of common ties partake.”
And from the distant shore
Dim voices seemed to raise an ecstasy of praise,
And chanted evermore.
Before His solemn presence kneeling;
But then once more in gentleness He spake,
As one who played on some poor instrument
That owned but uttered not his feeling.
“To learn the least in truth thou must awake,
And comprehend the whole of continent
Or isle and every system wheeling
Through Space, for all of common ties partake.”
And from the distant shore
Dim voices seemed to raise an ecstasy of praise,
And chanted evermore.
“Be patient with me, Lord,” I cried, and laid
My forehead in the dust and shivered,
That I should commune with my Maker so;
“But wherefore dost Thou give a partial aid,
When we do pine to be delivered
And watch how elsewhere sweet Thy wellsprings flow?
The sacrifice by us is also paid,
And this torn breast has quaked and quivered
With offerings free that stript and left me low.”
And then a sudden cloud
Rose like a threatening hand, and darkened sea and land
That seemed to sigh aloud.
My forehead in the dust and shivered,
That I should commune with my Maker so;
“But wherefore dost Thou give a partial aid,
When we do pine to be delivered
And watch how elsewhere sweet Thy wellsprings flow?
The sacrifice by us is also paid,
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With offerings free that stript and left me low.”
And then a sudden cloud
Rose like a threatening hand, and darkened sea and land
That seemed to sigh aloud.
But in the stillness I did hear His Heart,
Which is the soul of Nature throbbing;
As over me He breathed His blasting power,
Yet softened to one ray and without smart,
And cheered me in the shadow sobbing.
“The dew is there, if faith perceived the dower
And knew what makes its hidden treasure start,
Or took its own that needs no robbing;
And, in thy waste, I see the watered flower.”
But, lo, a happy hush
Dropt on my spirit spent, and all the Orient
Became one red-rose blush.
Which is the soul of Nature throbbing;
As over me He breathed His blasting power,
Yet softened to one ray and without smart,
And cheered me in the shadow sobbing.
“The dew is there, if faith perceived the dower
And knew what makes its hidden treasure start,
Or took its own that needs no robbing;
And, in thy waste, I see the watered flower.”
But, lo, a happy hush
Dropt on my spirit spent, and all the Orient
Became one red-rose blush.
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