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187
TO --- ---.
“Then, towards the right, I saw a cloud of the colour of opal, and
towards the left, a dusky cloud, and under both, the appearance as of
a falling shower; under the latter, as of rain at the end of autumn,
and under the former, as of dew at the beginning of spring, and immediately
I returned from the spirit into the body, and from the spiritual
into the natural world.”—Swedenborg.
I.
I say not to Thee, “Dost
Thou mind Thee how that eve above the dell
We sat together?” for I know thou must
Remember it, as I remember, well.
Thou mind Thee how that eve above the dell
We sat together?” for I know thou must
Remember it, as I remember, well.
I held thy hand in mine;
We spoke of many things, with frequent calm
Of tender pause between; the air was balm
That stirred the pages of the Book we held
Betwixt our hearts, till by their warmth compelled,
We brought its faded characters to shine
Upon us, tracing them with finger fine
Still further back, and when, upon a word
We paused, that time had worn, or grief had slurred,
Our spirits drew the closer, till at last
I read, as if by hearth-light flame, each line
Within the glow thy soul around thee cast,
Whilst thou didst read them by the light of mine.
We spoke of many things, with frequent calm
Of tender pause between; the air was balm
That stirred the pages of the Book we held
Betwixt our hearts, till by their warmth compelled,
We brought its faded characters to shine
Upon us, tracing them with finger fine
Still further back, and when, upon a word
We paused, that time had worn, or grief had slurred,
Our spirits drew the closer, till at last
I read, as if by hearth-light flame, each line
Within the glow thy soul around thee cast,
Whilst thou didst read them by the light of mine.
188
And loath its clasps to close
We hung above that Book; we kissed its leaves,
And marvelled at their fragrance, till a rose
Dropt from them, gathered once when summer-eves
Were kindest, it had withered there—the bloom
Had fallen from it, yet, within its tomb
It strewed with odours all its winding sheet—
Fragrant in life, among the dead how sweet!
We hung above that Book; we kissed its leaves,
And marvelled at their fragrance, till a rose
Dropt from them, gathered once when summer-eves
Were kindest, it had withered there—the bloom
Had fallen from it, yet, within its tomb
It strewed with odours all its winding sheet—
Fragrant in life, among the dead how sweet!
I held thee by the hand;
The evening deepened round us, still we read,
Evoking those old spells, till from the Dead
We summoned up our Youth and saw it stand
Before us beautiful! upon its brow
Sat pain and sweetness mingling, even now
I know not which was victor; then we took
Our counsel with the pages of the Book
To reckon with it harshly, but this dust
Turned on us sudden with the look of yore—
And of the wealth it took away, the trust
It broke with us, all question we forbore.
The evening deepened round us, still we read,
Evoking those old spells, till from the Dead
We summoned up our Youth and saw it stand
Before us beautiful! upon its brow
Sat pain and sweetness mingling, even now
I know not which was victor; then we took
Our counsel with the pages of the Book
To reckon with it harshly, but this dust
Turned on us sudden with the look of yore—
And of the wealth it took away, the trust
It broke with us, all question we forbore.
But even as a child,
Lured by a bird's clear singing, makes a track
Within the wood's deep heart, did fancies wild
And lovely draw us further, further back;
Until, 'mid windings green and lone we felt
Our feet were deep in flowers we loved before
Those grassy paths brake sudden, and we dwelt
In Arcady no more!
Lured by a bird's clear singing, makes a track
Within the wood's deep heart, did fancies wild
And lovely draw us further, further back;
Until, 'mid windings green and lone we felt
Our feet were deep in flowers we loved before
Those grassy paths brake sudden, and we dwelt
In Arcady no more!
189
We murmured, “Yea, no more
We know our Eden's place, yet is it well;
Although the gate be barred for us, the Door
Is ever open.”
We know our Eden's place, yet is it well;
Although the gate be barred for us, the Door
Is ever open.”
Suddenly there fell
A glory from the Heavens, and all the dell
Was filled with quivering light, as in a cup
Its woody hollow caught and kindled up
The sun's last sinking flashes; on the sky
There was no cloud, no flaming bar, no line
Of fire along the West, but solemnly
Heaven glowed unto its depths, as if the curse
Were lifted upwards from our universe
One moment's Sabbath space, and only Love
Stooped down above its World!—so from above
A smile dropt visibly on Earth, that prest
To meet that sign of reconcilement—blest
On brow and bosom blest.
A glory from the Heavens, and all the dell
Was filled with quivering light, as in a cup
Its woody hollow caught and kindled up
The sun's last sinking flashes; on the sky
There was no cloud, no flaming bar, no line
Of fire along the West, but solemnly
Heaven glowed unto its depths, as if the curse
Were lifted upwards from our universe
One moment's Sabbath space, and only Love
Stooped down above its World!—so from above
A smile dropt visibly on Earth, that prest
To meet that sign of reconcilement—blest
On brow and bosom blest.
We spoke no more;
Our souls were silenced; then we thought to fold
The pages of the volume worn and old
That still lay open, but the sunlight fell
And tracked each letter luminous and bold,
Until it shone a golden Chronicle,—
O sweet, sad Book, traced o'er
With marvels! light must fall
Upon thy page from Heaven, before
We see that Love writ all!
Our souls were silenced; then we thought to fold
The pages of the volume worn and old
That still lay open, but the sunlight fell
And tracked each letter luminous and bold,
Until it shone a golden Chronicle,—
O sweet, sad Book, traced o'er
With marvels! light must fall
Upon thy page from Heaven, before
We see that Love writ all!
190
II.
Then while we mused, a word
Fell on us, spoken once on desert plain,
“Go, gather up these fragments that remain,
And store them carefully, that none be lost;”
And at that Voice methought the ashes stirred
Within the Vale of Vision; sere and dry
Each severed hope, each shred of memory
Did shake and come together. Suddenly
Our life from days when infancy was sweet
Stood up before us, all from head to feet
Transfigured fair.
Fell on us, spoken once on desert plain,
“Go, gather up these fragments that remain,
And store them carefully, that none be lost;”
And at that Voice methought the ashes stirred
Within the Vale of Vision; sere and dry
Each severed hope, each shred of memory
Did shake and come together. Suddenly
Our life from days when infancy was sweet
Stood up before us, all from head to feet
Transfigured fair.
“How holy is this place!”
I said, and wist not what I spake; methought
I felt like one upon his journey brought
By ways he knows not of; these pathways dim
Had ever seemed their promised end to cheat,
Yet had they led to Him
In whom Life's tangled, broken threads complete
Are gathered up, its wasted things made meet
For holier use, its roughness smoothed, its bitter turned to sweet!
I said, and wist not what I spake; methought
I felt like one upon his journey brought
By ways he knows not of; these pathways dim
Had ever seemed their promised end to cheat,
Yet had they led to Him
In whom Life's tangled, broken threads complete
Are gathered up, its wasted things made meet
For holier use, its roughness smoothed, its bitter turned to sweet!
191
Then saw we how this hour
That we had chidden with, this mortal life,
That broke its faith with us, had not the power
To keep it better; weariness and strife
So marred its gentler purpose; yet comprest
Among its thick-set thorns, because the air
Did breathe about it all too chill and rare,
Our Past had held our Future, like a Rose
That may not yet its perfect soul disclose,
Lest angry winds should scatter and molest;
So shut within this narrow bud, its woes
Were but the crumpled leaves too closely prest;
And all its loveliness did but enclose
The germ of after beauty, now a Guest,
But soon to be a Dweller!
That we had chidden with, this mortal life,
That broke its faith with us, had not the power
To keep it better; weariness and strife
So marred its gentler purpose; yet comprest
Among its thick-set thorns, because the air
Did breathe about it all too chill and rare,
Our Past had held our Future, like a Rose
That may not yet its perfect soul disclose,
Lest angry winds should scatter and molest;
So shut within this narrow bud, its woes
Were but the crumpled leaves too closely prest;
And all its loveliness did but enclose
The germ of after beauty, now a Guest,
But soon to be a Dweller!
So we stood,
While gradual to our feet the shadows fell;
We looked abroad, and all was very good;
On all within was written, “It is well;”
For things that were and would be met and kissed
Each other in the heart, that like a child
For loss of each bright joy that it had missed,
Was by a loving promise reconciled!
While gradual to our feet the shadows fell;
We looked abroad, and all was very good;
On all within was written, “It is well;”
For things that were and would be met and kissed
Each other in the heart, that like a child
For loss of each bright joy that it had missed,
Was by a loving promise reconciled!
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