 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
And suddenly, fróm a pinnacle, which toucht heaven:
Proclaimed a Seraph; Hour was come to cast
Up the Fanes gates: where entering áll in one,
Might souls adore the Father of all Being!
I, albe unworthy, in with that Concourse went,
Of spirits; which, seemed me, were of every Nation.
Seeing all their pieties and their several Faiths
Accord in One; which do devoutly seek,
The cleansing of Mans soul, towards Life, through Death.
Diverse were they, of customs, hew, guise, feature.
Proclaimed a Seraph; Hour was come to cast
Up the Fanes gates: where entering áll in one,
Might souls adore the Father of all Being!
I, albe unworthy, in with that Concourse went,
Of spirits; which, seemed me, were of every Nation.
Seeing all their pieties and their several Faiths
Accord in One; which do devoutly seek,
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Diverse were they, of customs, hew, guise, feature.
Amidst the Sanctuary, shone an altár-stone;
(Which navel of the living World esteemed,)
Self-luminóus: whose springing beams sufficed,
Dream-spirits, which bowed them, ín each hallowed place.
It crystal seemed: and whoso gazed therein;
Might his resemblance see; how clear or dim
His soul yet were, through Sin.
(Which navel of the living World esteemed,)
Self-luminóus: whose springing beams sufficed,
Dream-spirits, which bowed them, ín each hallowed place.
It crystal seemed: and whoso gazed therein;
Might his resemblance see; how clear or dim
His soul yet were, through Sin.
I supplications,
From hundred óratories there, behéld ascend;
Visibly embódied, midst thick fume of incense:
Like little golden tongues, on flaming wings.
From hundred óratories there, behéld ascend;
Visibly embódied, midst thick fume of incense:
Like little golden tongues, on flaming wings.
Venerable was he of aspect, whó Chief-priest,
And habited ín long albe of shining line;
Kneeled ón his prayer-worn knees; and lifting up
Pure hands, presented líving sacrifice,
Of all those souls. And shone his countenance as;
Who Brightness seéth óf the Invisible.
And habited ín long albe of shining line;
Kneeled ón his prayer-worn knees; and lifting up
Pure hands, presented líving sacrifice,
Of all those souls. And shone his countenance as;
Who Brightness seéth óf the Invisible.
I, amázed, of á dóor-keeper asked anon,
Of all these things. Who answered; This it was,
Who Friend of all, of únknown parentage;
Bearing a censer, fróm his childhood up;
Had ín these holy precincts served devout;
Unwitting ill, in ínnocency of life,
Girded in spotless raiment. And no meat,
Unmeet for priests, at any time, had passed
His consecrated lips: nor uttered aught
Had they, that might offend, unsooth, unworth.
Of all these things. Who answered; This it was,
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Bearing a censer, fróm his childhood up;
Had ín these holy precincts served devout;
Unwitting ill, in ínnocency of life,
Girded in spotless raiment. And no meat,
Unmeet for priests, at any time, had passed
His consecrated lips: nor uttered aught
Had they, that might offend, unsooth, unworth.
Unto him, in hoary age, the People went,
As tó their Father. Him, they show their griefs:
And he, in taking pious thought, High Priest;
Determines soon, and sets their several parts:
Through comfort óf mild righteous words, at one.
As tó their Father. Him, they show their griefs:
And he, in taking pious thought, High Priest;
Determines soon, and sets their several parts:
Through comfort óf mild righteous words, at one.
I further, óf that doorward, understood:
How, in twílight óf the stars, him little babe;
At a dawns opening, óf the Temple doors;
The Sacristan had found, which that time was,
Fast sleeping; laid beside the altar-stone.
How, in twílight óf the stars, him little babe;
At a dawns opening, óf the Temple doors;
The Sacristan had found, which that time was,
Fast sleeping; laid beside the altar-stone.
The watchmen, called before the magistrates;
Had testified, being examined, wíth one breath:
That mid of night, with mist was overcast;
They a rushing heard, of mighty wings aloft:
As tired some erne to Earth, tumultuous.
Had testified, being examined, wíth one breath:
That mid of night, with mist was overcast;
They a rushing heard, of mighty wings aloft:
As tired some erne to Earth, tumultuous.
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An aureole shone around the infants head,
Shaped líke a mitre. Whence the aged Priest-sire;
Him taking up, and lulling in his arms;
To the heaven-sent foundling, ín his swaddling bands;
Gave name, Gift-of-the-Highest; and nourished up:
And consecrated sith, his acolyte.
Shaped líke a mitre. Whence the aged Priest-sire;
Him taking up, and lulling in his arms;
To the heaven-sent foundling, ín his swaddling bands;
Gave name, Gift-of-the-Highest; and nourished up:
And consecrated sith, his acolyte.
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |