University of Virginia Library


152

XXXVI. ELIAS AND ENOCH.

O thou that rodest up the skies,
Assumed ere death, on steeds of fire
That, rapt from earth in mortal guise
Some air immortal dost respire;
That, ambushed in the enshrouding sheen,
In quiet lulled of soul and flesh,
With one great thought of Him, the Unseen,
Thy ceaseless vigil dost refresh;
Old lion of Carmelian steeps!
Upon God's mountain, where, O where,
Or couchant by His unknown deeps,
Mak'st thou thine everlasting lair?
Hast thou, that earlier Seer beside
Who ‘walked with God, and was not,’ him
By contemplation glorified
When faith, in shallower hearts, grew dim,
Hast thou—despite corporeal bars—
A place among those Hierarchies,
Who fix on Mary's Throne, like stars,
The light of never-closing eyes?
Behold, there is a debt to pay!
With Enoch hid thou art on high:
Yet both shall back return one day,
To gaze once more on earth, and die.