University of Virginia Library

THE NEW JERUSALEM

I.

In common with humanity I sought
A New Jerusalem with golden floors,
And diamond-studded opal-handled doors,
And held our grimy earth for less than nought:
Some echo of the melody I thought
That through the pearly gates incessant pours,
A soft suggested hint of heavenly oars
On crystal streams, attentive ears had caught.
But now the vision fadeth, and instead
I find my longed-for city very clear
In spite of London fog before me here,
And here a crown, it may be, for my head
Of truer import than the splendours shed
On saints by former creeds accounted dear.

II.

No city sent from heaven as a bride
Is mine, but poor, and needing the attire
That I may weave for her in songs of fire
Before she can be unto love allied,
Meet for a hero's and a husband's side,
Able towards her own sunset to aspire.
I found her draggled, slip-shod, in the mire,
Her pure potential sovereignty denied,
And vowed myself to raise her; therefore I,
Brought down from Isis unto where the Thames
For many an arch her stately descent stems,
Will celebrate my London till I die,
If haply o'er her head without a sigh
Some day may flame the sunset diadems.

III.

I may not be her champion unless
I prove my worth in heat of sorest fight.
Oh! I would suffer with her through the night,
And share her agony and great distress,
And sober crape-embroidered mourning dress,
If so I might partake her bridal bright,
And when she riseth, clothed in power and white,
She might acknowledge me with one caress!
Sweet city, take me; here am I, not strong
As some men count strength,—yet I love thee well,
And hand in hand with thee will traverse hell,
And penetrate the utmost realms of wrong,
That so the road to heaven in my song
And purity I may be meet to tell.