The Cathedral, or the Catholic and Apostolic Church in England Second edition [by Isaac Williams] |
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 | The Cathedral, or the Catholic and Apostolic Church in England |  |
XI.
To my dark steps a little further on,
As things here seen on earth—the Night—the Storm,—
The Thunder—Pain—Unrest—and pale Remorse,
Girding around with ever-during fire,
And boding evil; so within Thy word
Dark auguries in terror seem to walk,
And sterner premonitions blend with hope,
The dread forerunners of the Judgment-morn.
Let not these pass, like clouds which summer gilds,
Lest shapes sublime and shadowy semblances
Teach us th'o'erwhelming substance to forego;
Lest flowers, which spring around the fount of truth,
We gather for frail wreaths of poesy,
Nor know our foulest selves reflected there.
Lest of these mighty things we talk and feel
Unprofited, and fail the will to do;—
The tabernacle deck with curious art,
Forget the engraven word laid up within,
Nor know the mercy seat, and awful cloud.
As things here seen on earth—the Night—the Storm,—
The Thunder—Pain—Unrest—and pale Remorse,
Girding around with ever-during fire,
And boding evil; so within Thy word
Dark auguries in terror seem to walk,
And sterner premonitions blend with hope,
The dread forerunners of the Judgment-morn.
Let not these pass, like clouds which summer gilds,
Lest shapes sublime and shadowy semblances
Teach us th'o'erwhelming substance to forego;
Lest flowers, which spring around the fount of truth,
We gather for frail wreaths of poesy,
Nor know our foulest selves reflected there.
Lest of these mighty things we talk and feel
Unprofited, and fail the will to do;—
The tabernacle deck with curious art,
Forget the engraven word laid up within,
Nor know the mercy seat, and awful cloud.
Thy guiding hand a little further on!
The Day and Night on their alternate watch,
And Time's bright sentinels that walk the sky,
The Sun and Moon—'tis written, doubt it not—
Shall pass, and in the darkness make their bed:
And we unloos'd out from this womb of things
Shall on the mighty stair of being climb.
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And Time's bright sentinels that walk the sky,
The Sun and Moon—'tis written, doubt it not—
Shall pass, and in the darkness make their bed:
And we unloos'd out from this womb of things
Shall on the mighty stair of being climb.
Unto the light a little further on!
Day after day that book is open laid,
A day shall come, and cannot now be far,
A day shall come, when last it shall be seen,—
The universe, of Angels and of men,
Shall stand around, and Christ Himself shall sit
Upon the great tribunal, plac'd on high,
And then that book shall be reopen'd wide,
And we shall look upon the Judge's face,
And on that book—and then shall hear His voice.
Day after day that book is open laid,
A day shall come, and cannot now be far,
A day shall come, when last it shall be seen,—
The universe, of Angels and of men,
Shall stand around, and Christ Himself shall sit
Upon the great tribunal, plac'd on high,
And then that book shall be reopen'd wide,
And we shall look upon the Judge's face,
And on that book—and then shall hear His voice.
| The Cathedral, or the Catholic and Apostolic Church in England | |