 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
We speed in dim main thoroughfare óf Worlds Dead,
And namely of righteous souls; whose flesh men laid,
With tears of late, to moulder ín sad grave.
They are mány whích borne forth: that ghostly glide;
Like drift of orchard blossoms, falling rife;
Wafted of South winds breath; towárds their place
Appointed them, of Everlasting Rest.
Dernly aught míght we in Únderworld yet perceive:
Till tó that circuit of Hels Radious Rocks,
Where sleep Worlds Faithful Dead, our steps arrive.
And namely of righteous souls; whose flesh men laid,
With tears of late, to moulder ín sad grave.
They are mány whích borne forth: that ghostly glide;
Like drift of orchard blossoms, falling rife;
Wafted of South winds breath; towárds their place
Appointed them, of Everlasting Rest.
Dernly aught míght we in Únderworld yet perceive:
Till tó that circuit of Hels Radious Rocks,
Where sleep Worlds Faithful Dead, our steps arrive.
And that is now! . . . Pause hath our giddy race:
And waning in the same, whiles we approach;
Is stár-bright saving light, of Herthas torch.
And waning in the same, whiles we approach;
Is stár-bright saving light, of Herthas torch.
Ló, a numbed multitude, gáthered to Souls' Porch;
Which wedded were in World, to righteous life!
Where cease our soles to tread, a little aloof;
We a sóul viewed, thát conflicted with himself:
Which finally he, subdued; trode underfoot:
Whom then received the rest to fellowship.
Which wedded were in World, to righteous life!
Where cease our soles to tread, a little aloof;
We a sóul viewed, thát conflicted with himself:
Which finally he, subdued; trode underfoot:
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Threefold stands, ín dim light, that solemn Port.
Not of óne building only, or substance like,
The several gates; but all like-radious.
Paths of the Just I read engráven on height.
Not of óne building only, or substance like,
The several gates; but all like-radious.
Paths of the Just I read engráven on height.
Conformable tó souls-stature, of just spirits:
Those give on several Regions, quoth the Voice;
Where their eternal heritage is, of Peace.
Those give on several Regions, quoth the Voice;
Where their eternal heritage is, of Peace.
With that was in mine hand, the Muses staff;
As Mansoul bade, I knockt on a side-port:
Nor feared; so from withinforth wafted breath
Was of hearts' rest, which all constraint dispersed.
As Mansoul bade, I knockt on a side-port:
Nor feared; so from withinforth wafted breath
Was of hearts' rest, which all constraint dispersed.
Peace, the thrice-blesséd high Warden óf that porch:
(A Chief One He, amóngst the Sons of God;
Being multipresent, ín the Universe:)
Lookt from a lattice. Ánd taken cógnizance of us;
(His brows were ás wreathed snow; his eyes stárbright;)
Lifted the hasp: and, Pass with God! Peace quoth.
(A Chief One He, amóngst the Sons of God;
Being multipresent, ín the Universe:)
Lookt from a lattice. Ánd taken cógnizance of us;
(His brows were ás wreathed snow; his eyes stárbright;)
Lifted the hasp: and, Pass with God! Peace quoth.
Neath covert óf His dove-like wings, outstretcht,
We assurance entering found, in House of Death:
Nay, an occult parfume seemed surprise our sense
Of heavenly places!
We assurance entering found, in House of Death:
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Of heavenly places!
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |