The Judgement of the Flood by John A. Heraud. A New Edition. Revised and Re-Arranged |
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 | The Judgement of the Flood |  |
107
The Lay of LILITH'S SON; Dreamer of Dreams, Seer of Visions, in the Morning Land.
Crowned with the Martyr's crown, and in the robe
Of purple cinctured; hail, triumphant Faith.
By thee we rise . . and rise; our thoughts by thee
Soar to the heaven, the Heaven of heavens, and build
Them habitations there. Nor these alone:
Thou givest wings unto the soul herself,
Wherewith supported, she shall downward look
Upon destruction in serene repose,
And smile above the planetary wreck.
Of purple cinctured; hail, triumphant Faith.
By thee we rise . . and rise; our thoughts by thee
Soar to the heaven, the Heaven of heavens, and build
Them habitations there. Nor these alone:
Thou givest wings unto the soul herself,
Wherewith supported, she shall downward look
Upon destruction in serene repose,
And smile above the planetary wreck.
Thereafter, shall the immortal soul rehearse
What harmonies she heard at hush of Eve;
Or in the quiet of the paly moon;
Or audible breathings of the coysome dawn,
When thought profound listened, as to the stars,
And silence had a voice. A still small voice,
Less than the slenderest whisper: twilight birth
From Nothing, and Creation; as their feud
Were intermitted, and their strife the while
But amourous play had been;—each lost in each,
Like light, and shade on Nature's countenance;
Or wave on wave, within some gentle bay,
In multitudinous unity dissolved;
Or the light azure filmy clouds, within
The bosom of heaven's blue o'er Italy;
Or the self-moving undulations bland
Of the once Athenian marbles. 'Twixt that still
Small voice, and very silence, there abode
Nor embryo, nor shadow, of a sound.
What harmonies she heard at hush of Eve;
Or in the quiet of the paly moon;
Or audible breathings of the coysome dawn,
When thought profound listened, as to the stars,
And silence had a voice. A still small voice,
Less than the slenderest whisper: twilight birth
From Nothing, and Creation; as their feud
Were intermitted, and their strife the while
But amourous play had been;—each lost in each,
Like light, and shade on Nature's countenance;
108
In multitudinous unity dissolved;
Or the light azure filmy clouds, within
The bosom of heaven's blue o'er Italy;
Or the self-moving undulations bland
Of the once Athenian marbles. 'Twixt that still
Small voice, and very silence, there abode
Nor embryo, nor shadow, of a sound.
And higher harmonies shall there be heard
Than what, from this material universe,
—In the most holy hour of sympathy
With its completions, when it best is felt,
Like an Æolian tone, within the soul,—
Inspired imagination may conceive,
Of sound, and sense, as from an oracle:
Higher, and happier harmonies; unmixed
With the blind darkness, and the wasting grief,
Or mournful reminiscence, which disturb
The sweetest music here; though joy there be,
Ay, and the most ennobling joy in grief:
With melancholy retrospect unmixed;
But warmed with that high fortitude of faith,
Which makes a seraph's harp all ecstasy,
And every number burn, as it were fire,
With most substantial rapture; at the shrine
Of Holiness, and Beauty kindled well.
Therefore, for Lamech's death no grief lament;
Than what, from this material universe,
—In the most holy hour of sympathy
With its completions, when it best is felt,
Like an Æolian tone, within the soul,—
Inspired imagination may conceive,
Of sound, and sense, as from an oracle:
Higher, and happier harmonies; unmixed
With the blind darkness, and the wasting grief,
Or mournful reminiscence, which disturb
The sweetest music here; though joy there be,
Ay, and the most ennobling joy in grief:
With melancholy retrospect unmixed;
But warmed with that high fortitude of faith,
Which makes a seraph's harp all ecstasy,
And every number burn, as it were fire,
With most substantial rapture; at the shrine
Of Holiness, and Beauty kindled well.
But rather triumph greet his happy change.
| The Judgement of the Flood | |