The Book of the Holy Graal By Arthur Edward Waite |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. | XI
Food of Heaven |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVII. |
 | The Book of the Holy Graal |  |
93
XI
Food of Heaven
They pass'd again into the sleep of dream
And vision; and again they met therein.
A certain consciousness of time elapsed
Was with them, never realized before,
Elusive now, no break in the events
Suggesting, rather some subsurface law
Which interlink'd them on both sides of life
And mark'd one sequence. The next stage of sleep
Would issue therefore from the waking stage
Of being and henceforward lead in turn
Through some assembly of external things
To follow on. But now it came no more—
Did it come ever—with a sense of doom
Unfolding and of actors used therein
As doll's house manikins. Their human will
Had all at once been married to an end
And purpose which in every process spoke
Of Higher Will, shaping with those who shaped
94
By which through all the ages of the world
The partnership of God and man directs
The great redeeming work. So souls are led.
So souls obtaining knowledge of themselves
Look back from their attainments and confess
They could not choose but coincide and lead
Their nature-wills to that most perfect point
When they henceforth are taken. Yet the choice
Was theirs, as driven by themselves in love,
Not God-compell'd, Who yet compels by love;
For working with the whole is love's constraint
And an ineffable freedom, love-insured.
Thus are we loosen'd always in the great
High things of being and are bound alone
In law of trifles. God and His good ends
Are reach'd in liberty; the lesser self
Spins ropes, makes rivets, forges heavy chains
To yoke itself, and perishes therein.
Yet from that body of death may the live self
Rise up to vindicate the race thereof,
The freedom and the royalty in God.
The SEEKER-POET and BEATA moved
Amidst the many mansions of the House,
And there was morning in the world without
Its portals. As upon the moon of soul
95
Arises and the soul dissolves therein,
To dwell henceforward in the Sun of Christ,
So pass'd for them that quiet moon of dream
Which through the windows of the House had look'd
When soul for soul had lifted veils and thrown
The gates wide open. Morning gold and red
Emblazon'd all the East; and the Sun rose.
It seem'd to both as if that blessed light
Had never shone before on their dream-world.
Dark under stars at times, at others glow'd
The portent of a red unradiant moon,
Low-stooping towards the West, while in the day
Dark vapours blotted out the vault above,
Or at the most the dim light through the clouds
Gloom'd, and perchance flung through a jagged patch—
Might slantwise fall some transitory gleam.
Now it was light ineffable and now
Glory of living freshness, glory of pearl,
Of rose and amethyst, a second birth
Of Nature. Now the Many Mansion'd House
Received the light without and gave it back
From plinth and pilaster and arch and wall,
While evermore its depths, from space to space,
Open'd, with domes, with chapels and with naves—
96
At the imputed East far and away,
Behind a rood-screen and the shining woof
Of a golden curtain, from the vaulted height
To base extended, heal'd its mysteries.
There pour'd forth only an enkindling sense
Of presences; and within, behind, above
That first suggestion, something undeclared,
August and dreadful loom'd. Thereat the heart
Still'd beatings and the offices of thought
Broke on the threshold. Was it of the One
Spirit, withdrawn upon Itself, which gives
Their life to hierarchies whose cohorts fill
The courts, the palaces, the jewell'd streets
Of Zion? Were they facing unawares
A porch of still eternity, or well
Of infinite being, God-head self-immersed,
Which in the spirit-body of the House
Gave notions of immeasurable range?
For those who moved in the soul-part of them
Through aisle or nave, back from the Golden Veil
Self-press'd, were conscious not of awe alone,
Or that which lies too deep for ghostly dread—
But distance past all travel.
Of presences; and within, behind, above
That first suggestion, something undeclared,
August and dreadful loom'd. Thereat the heart
Still'd beatings and the offices of thought
Broke on the threshold. Was it of the One
Spirit, withdrawn upon Itself, which gives
Their life to hierarchies whose cohorts fill
The courts, the palaces, the jewell'd streets
Of Zion? Were they facing unawares
A porch of still eternity, or well
Of infinite being, God-head self-immersed,
Which in the spirit-body of the House
Gave notions of immeasurable range?
For those who moved in the soul-part of them
Through aisle or nave, back from the Golden Veil
Self-press'd, were conscious not of awe alone,
Or that which lies too deep for ghostly dread—
But distance past all travel.
So it was
With QUÆSTOR DEI and BEATA, brought
Through many precincts into mighty aisle,
From aisle to nave. The Presence put them back,
Till as from to star the distance show'd
Between them and the curtain's blazon'd screen
Of glittering cloud. What awful Mercy-seat
Was fix'd behind and through that gorgeous veil
Pour'd rays from GLORIA INHABITANS?
And would that veil at some determined point
Of their advancement open to admit
Their introgression from the Holy Place
Into the utter Adytum, Holiest
Among the Holies?
With QUÆSTOR DEI and BEATA, brought
97
From aisle to nave. The Presence put them back,
Till as from to star the distance show'd
Between them and the curtain's blazon'd screen
Of glittering cloud. What awful Mercy-seat
Was fix'd behind and through that gorgeous veil
Pour'd rays from GLORIA INHABITANS?
And would that veil at some determined point
Of their advancement open to admit
Their introgression from the Holy Place
Into the utter Adytum, Holiest
Among the Holies?
Where a window sprang
From base to height, the risen Sun, above
Pale vapours, and with never lightest cloud
Throughout the welkin, pour'd upon them—there
Kneeling—regenerate glory of its own
And clothed and crown'd them. For a moment, thus
Transform'd, it fell upon the Pyx and Cup,
And there and then, beyond the Golden Veil,
The glory that was ineffable within
Sent down a shaft ineffable and caught
These vessels in the network of the light,
Whereat within the metal began to move
A life which never in the dream before
Had stirr'd and trembled. So the priest—sublimed
In sanctity—on Bread and Wine invokes
The life of Christ, the body and the blood,
And life is there.
From base to height, the risen Sun, above
Pale vapours, and with never lightest cloud
Throughout the welkin, pour'd upon them—there
Kneeling—regenerate glory of its own
And clothed and crown'd them. For a moment, thus
Transform'd, it fell upon the Pyx and Cup,
And there and then, beyond the Golden Veil,
The glory that was ineffable within
Sent down a shaft ineffable and caught
These vessels in the network of the light,
Whereat within the metal began to move
A life which never in the dream before
Had stirr'd and trembled. So the priest—sublimed
In sanctity—on Bread and Wine invokes
98
And life is there.
The Bearers bow'd their heads
And all was heaven within them for a space,
By thought indrawn. The Bearers rose and stood,
Midwise in nave, while unseen thuribles
Swung round about them, filling the still air
With other incense than ascends on earth,
And in the centre of those hallow'd fumes
Yet sweeter fragrance—not of incense burnt
In heaven or earth—past psychic senses stole,
Till it was with them, for a moment's space,
As when the spirit is alone with God,
In God's great rapture. Incense, solar light,
The golden glory of the Veil, the House
Of Many Mansions in that space dissolved,
And there was neither earth nor very heaven,
But only God; while ravish'd, out of self,
In the love-state of being, they beheld
And were and realized in Him alone—
As love that is, and is alone and one.
So was it, till the glory was withdrawn
Behind the Veil; but this remain'd to shine
With its own splendour, and the blessed sun,
In the salvation of its natural light.
An inward impulse brought the Bearers back
To conscious presence in the Holy House,
Their rapture done: an inner impulse turn'd
Their faces westward. Where the distance—vast
But not beyond our measures—shadow'd forth
A western wall, the Portal of the House
And all its miracle of stone and wood,
Of carvings and of images, they saw
Looming—uncertain, wonderful. With Cup
And Pyx upraised, that impulse prompted still
The Bearers. Passing through the medial space,
The Portal's majesty of breadth and height,
Line upon line of symbol and of saint—
Known and unknown—high messages in words
Heart-flaming, doctrine of all hidden life,
Maxims and mastery of sentences,
Held eyes and mind, their very heart of heart
In homage. So it was a worshipful
Space as of well-deep stillness, whereupon
There supervened a state of hush'd, alert
Expectancy—not silence, for they felt
All chords vibrate within them. New event
Stirr'd on the threshold, and its rumours woke
An answer from their inmost. Not a word
Was utter'd or was needed, for the flash
Of understanding—as through lambent eyes—
From each to each spoke eloquently. Pyx
And Cup yet farther in the shade and light
Were lifted, while the mode and mien of each,
High in the act exalted, swept from grade
To grade of recollection, reverence,
Devotion: this to adoration grew,
Then love—beginning at the human best,
But afterwards transumed, it shone divine.
God's love was in their faces and God's work
Inspired them.
And all was heaven within them for a space,
By thought indrawn. The Bearers rose and stood,
Midwise in nave, while unseen thuribles
Swung round about them, filling the still air
With other incense than ascends on earth,
And in the centre of those hallow'd fumes
Yet sweeter fragrance—not of incense burnt
In heaven or earth—past psychic senses stole,
Till it was with them, for a moment's space,
As when the spirit is alone with God,
In God's great rapture. Incense, solar light,
The golden glory of the Veil, the House
Of Many Mansions in that space dissolved,
And there was neither earth nor very heaven,
But only God; while ravish'd, out of self,
In the love-state of being, they beheld
And were and realized in Him alone—
As love that is, and is alone and one.
So was it, till the glory was withdrawn
Behind the Veil; but this remain'd to shine
With its own splendour, and the blessed sun,
In the salvation of its natural light.
An inward impulse brought the Bearers back
To conscious presence in the Holy House,
99
Their faces westward. Where the distance—vast
But not beyond our measures—shadow'd forth
A western wall, the Portal of the House
And all its miracle of stone and wood,
Of carvings and of images, they saw
Looming—uncertain, wonderful. With Cup
And Pyx upraised, that impulse prompted still
The Bearers. Passing through the medial space,
The Portal's majesty of breadth and height,
Line upon line of symbol and of saint—
Known and unknown—high messages in words
Heart-flaming, doctrine of all hidden life,
Maxims and mastery of sentences,
Held eyes and mind, their very heart of heart
In homage. So it was a worshipful
Space as of well-deep stillness, whereupon
There supervened a state of hush'd, alert
Expectancy—not silence, for they felt
All chords vibrate within them. New event
Stirr'd on the threshold, and its rumours woke
An answer from their inmost. Not a word
Was utter'd or was needed, for the flash
Of understanding—as through lambent eyes—
From each to each spoke eloquently. Pyx
And Cup yet farther in the shade and light
Were lifted, while the mode and mien of each,
100
To grade of recollection, reverence,
Devotion: this to adoration grew,
Then love—beginning at the human best,
But afterwards transumed, it shone divine.
God's love was in their faces and God's work
Inspired them.
Now they paused, nor scarcely knew
Of waiting, till the gracious thing to come,
As crossing threshold, on the actual
Emerged. Nor slowly, nor with strident haste
Slipp'd back the Portal's mighty double leaves;
And moving forward—still as those enwrapp'd—
Erect between the pillars of the House
The Bearers stood, like vested priests prepared
For ministry. About the courts and steps
Of that immeasurable edifice,
A multitude of women and of men
Crowded and sway'd: and still the old, old want
Was scored upon their faces. But whereas
That which all recently befell within
Had alter'd aspects in the ways without,
Something had enter'd in those wither'd hearts
And expectation now exceeded want.
Sun-clarity and sheen, with every mark
Of life abounding and world's weal therein,
Warm'd also these, enlighten'd and bestirr'd
Unwonted pulses, as of ends declared,
Great new beginnings.
Of waiting, till the gracious thing to come,
As crossing threshold, on the actual
Emerged. Nor slowly, nor with strident haste
Slipp'd back the Portal's mighty double leaves;
And moving forward—still as those enwrapp'd—
Erect between the pillars of the House
The Bearers stood, like vested priests prepared
For ministry. About the courts and steps
Of that immeasurable edifice,
A multitude of women and of men
Crowded and sway'd: and still the old, old want
Was scored upon their faces. But whereas
That which all recently befell within
Had alter'd aspects in the ways without,
Something had enter'd in those wither'd hearts
And expectation now exceeded want.
Sun-clarity and sheen, with every mark
Of life abounding and world's weal therein,
Warm'd also these, enlighten'd and bestirr'd
101
Great new beginnings.
So when those vast doors
Reveal'd the overwhelming nave within,
Whilst the gold curtain's glory glow'd and gleam'd
Where eye could scarcely follow in the far,
An universal sobbing of tremulous hope
And prayer of pent distress went up and down
The concourse. Hush'd into an undertone,
There stirr'd some currents of dead hopes re-born,
Of wonder and desire engirt with awe,
And loosed bonds slipp'd. For which of all had seen
That Temple in old dim-light of the world?
If any, which of them in gloom of night
Or day, had come upon its Portal cast
Open before them, and had look'd therein?
Reveal'd the overwhelming nave within,
Whilst the gold curtain's glory glow'd and gleam'd
Where eye could scarcely follow in the far,
An universal sobbing of tremulous hope
And prayer of pent distress went up and down
The concourse. Hush'd into an undertone,
There stirr'd some currents of dead hopes re-born,
Of wonder and desire engirt with awe,
And loosed bonds slipp'd. For which of all had seen
That Temple in old dim-light of the world?
If any, which of them in gloom of night
Or day, had come upon its Portal cast
Open before them, and had look'd therein?
Those Bearers truly through the sad grey land
Had moved and minister'd; but now they stood
Thus, in the nimbus of an aureate light
Transfigured, and the vessels in their hands
Not only gave back glory shining round
But were made quick with splendour of their own—
Subtle, innate and spiritual. Thus
It came about that, prompted suddenly—
As one together—upon bended knees
That congregation fell; and the great work
For QUÆSTOR DEI and BEATA there
And then began. In rapture and in trance
Of ministry, communicating and themselves
Receiving, over and above all signs
Of sacraments, on the morning of that day—
Out of all days taken and set apart—
They fed five thousand in the wilderness
Of morning glory, as with Living Bread
And Wine of Being.
Had moved and minister'd; but now they stood
Thus, in the nimbus of an aureate light
Transfigured, and the vessels in their hands
Not only gave back glory shining round
But were made quick with splendour of their own—
Subtle, innate and spiritual. Thus
It came about that, prompted suddenly—
As one together—upon bended knees
102
For QUÆSTOR DEI and BEATA there
And then began. In rapture and in trance
Of ministry, communicating and themselves
Receiving, over and above all signs
Of sacraments, on the morning of that day—
Out of all days taken and set apart—
They fed five thousand in the wilderness
Of morning glory, as with Living Bread
And Wine of Being.
The partakers there
Had very sustenance, to heart's content:
So was there want no longer in that world,
And a deep sense of God within the soul
Was felt abiding. They arose in light
Of innermost refreshment. The old scales
Fell from their eyes, so that for these—as those
Who minister'd—that wilderness whereon
Such Day-Star broke was seen as Paradise;
And a TE DEUM never sung on earth
Peal'd forth triumphant on the lips of all—
The gratitude, the knowledge and the joy
Of such as find that God in very truth
Dwells with His people.
Had very sustenance, to heart's content:
So was there want no longer in that world,
And a deep sense of God within the soul
Was felt abiding. They arose in light
Of innermost refreshment. The old scales
Fell from their eyes, so that for these—as those
Who minister'd—that wilderness whereon
Such Day-Star broke was seen as Paradise;
And a TE DEUM never sung on earth
Peal'd forth triumphant on the lips of all—
The gratitude, the knowledge and the joy
Of such as find that God in very truth
Dwells with His people.
At the end hereof
The House of Many Mansions—in its depth
Of light and grace—received the Bearers back.
The Portals, with a blessing for the world,
Closed on them in a worshipful melody
Of motion; and the conclave thereupon
Was scatter'd on its proper paths and ways.
Each man and woman, to their call in life
Returning, realized the call of God
Therein, so therefore went about His will
And work in peace of the concurring heart.
Peace in the cottage, peace in hall and keep,
The grace of union and the bliss thereof:
O Rose and Lily of that new morning tide,
Feast of the Substance and the Life Divine.
When each partaker had that joy which most
He long'd for served from a most plenteous dish,
Truly the Holy Graal about the world
Was moving, and the end of perilous times,
Of hard adventure, of the want of man,
Had dawn'd, for man was satisfied in God.
So QUÆSTOR DEI and BEATA fed
The House of Many Mansions—in its depth
Of light and grace—received the Bearers back.
103
Closed on them in a worshipful melody
Of motion; and the conclave thereupon
Was scatter'd on its proper paths and ways.
Each man and woman, to their call in life
Returning, realized the call of God
Therein, so therefore went about His will
And work in peace of the concurring heart.
Peace in the cottage, peace in hall and keep,
The grace of union and the bliss thereof:
O Rose and Lily of that new morning tide,
Feast of the Substance and the Life Divine.
When each partaker had that joy which most
He long'd for served from a most plenteous dish,
Truly the Holy Graal about the world
Was moving, and the end of perilous times,
Of hard adventure, of the want of man,
Had dawn'd, for man was satisfied in God.
Their famish'd multitude in a wilderness.
105
Of a place that is far away,
On a certain sacred height
Which few can gain: in a secret fane
At the gospel-side
Of an altar strangely bless'd
An open Mass-Book lay.
Till I knew them over and over, again, again
I have read the words therein;
And now in this aureate Easter morning tide—
Praise God—I have brought them back from the farther side.
They are words of peace and light;
All other words above, they are words of love:
They are sacred words of rest.
Who knows my art? Who knows?
An altar of repose
I have made in the heart within.
O Sacred Host, O Wine and Bread,
Those secret things in the heart are said,
And where no foot of man has trod
I have learn'd how to look for God.
| The Book of the Holy Graal | |