The Seven Days, or the Old and New Creation By the author of "The Cathedral" [i.e. Isaac Williams] |
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| 4. | THE FOURTH DAY. The Sun, Moon, and Stars. |
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 | The Seven Days, or the Old and New Creation |  |
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THE FOURTH DAY. The Sun, Moon, and Stars.
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ARGUMENT.
We look to the starry skies as an exile to his home. God hath turned our face upwards, and disclosed to us the stars to shew us the obedience and peace of Heaven. Their teaching is of love and beauty, of endless Sabbath, of motion combined with rest, of reverential awe. Their infinite number. The seven Planets of our solar system described: probability of some secret connection the destiny of our globe may have with them. The Moon the most beautiful from her nearness to us. Multitude and vastness of the Fixed Stars. The Zodiac and the Four Seasons. Treasures of earth and treasures of Heaven compared. On this same Day Christ sold for pieces of silver. Three mysteries—of the Incarnation—of Grace—of Nature: these three combined in one.
Our own true Sun the Sun of Righteousness, on whom spiritual life depends. The Moon as the faithful witness in Heaven representing the Church, subject to wane and increase; effect of its sacred lustre on all earthly objects. Stars representing Angels and Saints; but our Sun alone supplies life and light of day. They are for signs, and seasons, days, and years; the same mystically understood of Christ, His Church, and Saints as marking the periods of time. Superiority of mind and spirit over material worlds: the visible Heavens teach us the order and harmony of the invisible.
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MORNING.
I
As one to native walls his own no moreLooks, by a stranger led, with wondering eyes;
Or as our exil'd Parents gaz'd of yore
On where the light of their lost Paradise
Cast on the desert gloom cherubic dyes;
So on our earth when night's dark shadow falls
We lift our eyes, and see upon the skies
Those flowers of Heaven whose solemn sight appals,
Like jewell'd gates that shine on our lost Salem's walls.
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II
Creatures of dust upon the earth we creep,Yet bear divine original from high,
And upward turn from realms of death and sleep;
On all the flowers about our feet that lie,
On all the stars that range the vaulted sky,
Are writ the living characters of love;
To meet our downward or our upturn'd eye;
That we might learn what the Unseen must prove
Where God to spirits pure reveals Himself above.
III
For now He brings to view man's starry homeAbove the earth-born clouds,—where evil powers
With death's dark messengers can never come,—
And turns his face towards those celestial towers,
Where the Sun kindles the bright ambient bowers
Of lustrous light; there bids the shining spheres,
Dropping from high serene and solemn hours,
To number out the exile's destin'd years,
While in their silver course obedience meek appears.
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IV
High as the Heavens are set the earth above(And infinite extends the wondrous sign)
So are the thoughts of God's eternal love
Compar'd with ours; so are the ways Divine
Higher than man's: what hallowed peace benign
Breathes stilly thro' the terrible Immense,
Sets mortal pride afar, and seems to twine
Deep harmonies which soothe each jarring sense:
Well Plato deem'd their ways melodious eloquence.
V
New pledge of love; the Lover of mankindSpreads forth the secret riches of the skies
To meet his view, and speak of more behind;
Systems on systems pour'd, whose suns are eyes
Enamell'd, clustering with ambrosial dyes;
And ever and anon shews the blue veil
Diamonded o'er and o'er; as panting lies
The dolphin on the shore with bright-orb'd scale,
Or like the Almond-tree in Salem's flowery vale.
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VI
Then from the depths beyond for ever newPours forth fresh multitudes, bound without bound,
Turns the broad Heavens and brings them all to view;
Like that Junonian bird that spreads around,
His whirring pinions trailing on the ground,
His star-ey'd theatre his head above,
Then wheels again about with step profound
Catching the light, in silence seems to move,
His tread like music soft, and all his motion love.
VII
How deep the o'er-hanging stillness, full of awe,All motion, yet all motionless around!
Like those the vocal jewels of the Law,
The voice of God in the dread brilliants bound,
Awful as thunder, hearing sense is drown'd.
Such was the stillness of the wintry gloom
When Bethlehem's star mov'd on without a sound,
And such when Christ arose from the dark tomb,
And haply such shall be when sounds the trump of doom.
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VIII
They on their noiseless axles seem asleep,So motionless, because so swift they move,
And high aloof perpetual Sabbath keep;
For such the ministries of those above,
Because their labour is eternal love;
And love doth on the golden centre rest;
Nor e'er from her appointed pathway rove;
Such life and light is on their ways impress'd,
Mirrors of those who walk in their obedience bless'd.
IX
To do God's will as it is done in Heaven;—In this our thoughts must end, from this begin;
Hence sight of those material worlds is given;
Creatures below set forth man's soul within,
All mark'd by his unrest and with his sin;
So from those orbs disclos'd to human eyes,
Though dim and distant, we a thought may win
Of vastness, peace, and mutual charities,—
Of beings which unseen are hid in inner skies.
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X
What strange adoring wonder o'er them lies,Silent magnificence of endless praise,
Like the intelligence of loving eyes,
Like life the very trembling of their rays.
How eloquent their silence, while we gaze,
E'en as of one who for an utterance seeks;—
As if their solemn voices they would raise,
But when His glory on their vision breaks
In adoration sink and silence only speaks.
XI
From the rude strife of tongues, from clamorous throes,The wordy interchange, the noise, the fray,
We lift our hearts to their calm deep repose;
From things we love around whose fast decay
Is with the flowers; o'er us in surer stay
With thoughts of the Unchangeable they bless;
For they are not like creatures of a day,
But in their light that wanes not, nor grows less,
Something they seem to have of everlastingness.
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XII
Like loop-holes of eternity, like eyesOf fabled Argus, that with stern appeal,
When seeming dead unnumber'd o'er us rise;
While from the unfathom'd depths to sight they steal
As if eternal whispers to reveal,
Laden upon their watch with words that burn;
Like that Ixion on the wingèd wheel,
Whose warning voice aloud at every turn
Reverence and awe divine and justice bids to learn.
XIII
How numberless e'en to our sight reveal'd,Immeasurable worlds through depth and height,
Thick-sown as golden flowers in summer field,
How multitudinous in their soundless flight,
How spiritual, how vast, and infinite!
Through the illimitable they ever fly,
Come forth to view in the serene of night,
And seem like out-posts of eternity,
Watching without the place which God hath hid on high.
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XIV
And first of all upon the glorious archAppear and disappear the wandering seven,
Now here now there upon their wondrous march,
Like diamond drops, in course elliptic driven
Around the sun with their own moons in Heaven;
Each on us looks in his own solitude
Untrembling, through the night, at morn, or even;
In mystic dance and solemn sisterhood
Move their harmonious orbs and sing the Only Good.
XV
Light-clad, light-wing'd, light-footed MercuryIn the Sun's nearer presence loves to hide,
Lost in the effulgence oft from human eye,
Less seen therein but not less purified:
Then Venus;—next our Earth;—then Mars doth ride
On his red horse and lifts his fiery crest;
Then belted Jupiter in circuit wide
With four attendant moons shines o'er the rest;—
Earth—fourteen-hundred fold would scarce his balance wrest.
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XVI
Then Saturn, arch'd in icy palaces,Rainbow'd around, and bridg'd with Alpine show
Of moon-like pendent Heavens or glacier seas,
Or may be diamond kingdoms starr'd with snow,
Flies with the lunar seven that with him go.
And Uranus beyond, with sail unfurl'd,
Borne to the furthest verge our sun may know,
May look on other confines, world on world,
Where other stars around far other suns are hurl'd.
XVII
Like the wing'd moth that round the taper wheelsHer orbèd flight and rapid circuitings;
Unseen the while, as round and round she reels,
The strange magnificence of her bright wings;
Or as attendants on the throne of Kings
Lose themselves in that light and majesty,
Bright in the lustre that attendance brings;—
Their wonders and their glories, while they flee,
Are seen by other eyes than our mortality.
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XVIII
Creation's various kingdoms here belowWith mutual federations intertwine;
And haply these the worlds that with us glow
Around one central sun, with us combine,
In unreveal'd relationships benign,
And other chains of being; of our light,
Not of our sin, or aught of sinful sign
Partaking: and in realms beyond our sight
Some destinies divine may us with them unite.
XIX
But fairest of the stars that walk the skies,Set near the Sun in inner courts to rove,
And fairest seen in his own glowing dyes,
Hesper the golden-horn'd, or Queen of Love;
Now in the dawn lists to the early dove,
Now sits more lovely in his western bower;
O beauteous handmaid watching from above,
Companion of the morn and evening hour,
Emblem of faith Divine, of Grace the maiden flower.
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XX
But most to us our Moon because so near,Associate of our earth on her vast flight,
By sympathies and ministrations dear;
While constant in mutation to our sight
She comes and sits upon the throne of night;
For such to us are most exceeding fair
Which to ourselves come nigh. Both join their light,
Dependant both their mutual aid they share,
And drink one fount of life, companions through the air.
XXI
'Tis sweet to watch the crescent lately bornEve after eve advancing; toward the West
Her orbèd bow; Eastward her hollow horn
Extending day by day, with silver crest
To rule the night, fulfilling that behest
Original; till on the East afar
Her full-fac'd orb serene and manifest
Looks on the Sun; with gold-empurpled car
He on the wave descends with his own evening star.
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XXII
And sweet to watch the signs, when without cloudHer lustrous mantle covers all with light;
Then wild with life the forest rings aloud;
And sylvan nature keeps the festal night;
The clanging cranes are heard in unseen height;
The fisherman is out upon the deep,
For Ocean tribes are swarming infinite;
The moon is up upon the Eastern steep
To speak an eye in Heaven which watches while we sleep.
XXIII
But as the ship, in full-wing'd pride array'd,Shews afar off but like the painted fly
With pennons couch'd upon some honey'd blade;
As men and ploughing steers from mountain high
Like ants that on the sand their labours ply;
So our great Sun with all his worlds must seem,
Amid the vast of the star-peopled sky,
Like shadow of a leaf upon a stream,
Yea as in a dark room a mote in the sunbeam.
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XXIV
'Mid other suns of suns and spheres of spheresOur universe itself may seem afar,
With all the mighty globes with her she bears,
Fix'd in the distant space a twinkling spar;
Yea, could Thought travel on from star to star
Before her still would stretch the encircling hall,
With naught her everlasting flight to bar,
Before her flies the omnipresent wall,
Each place the centre and circumference of all.
XXV
For what these wandering Worlds, a number'd flockCompared with all those starry companies,
Which, from his Afric Cape or Tuscan rock,
Some Galileo with his tube descries;
While as he marks their chains thro' distant skies,
And metes their orbs and tracks the course they run,
He seems to hear their solemn harmonies,
While system rang'd o'er system, sun with sun,
Disclose the golden stairs of the Eternal Throne.
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XXVI
Before those countless hosts all human speechFails, hence the Bull, the Lion, and the Bear,
Spotted with worlds: men's words in vain would reach
The infinite and glorious theatre
With golden-pinion'd orbs in noiseless stir;—
Then in despair they mock the dread Sublime,
And syllable their fiery character
By symbols from some creeping thing of time,
Seen on our annual course the universe to climb:—
XXVII
The Zodiac, with swarming worlds aliveUnnumber'd, creatures of the sacred Ark,
Cluster'd with stars;—each thick as wingèd hive
Seen on the vernal skies;—each twinkling spark
A sun of unseen worlds that dots the dark;—
There while the burning voyager doth steer
His course in Heaven, more thick the worlds that mark
His annual path, and pave the hemisphere,
Than flowers which 'neath our feet attend the rolling year.
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XXVIII
The Ram, his hornèd front with crystal starr'd,Spreading in Heaven his golden fleece aloof,
Opens the gates, for Argonaut unbarr'd;
Then comes the Bull, and with his harness'd hoof
Breaks up the April furrows; on Heaven's roof
Then sit the Twins dropping May's vernal flowers:
And now the Crab with shell of starry proof
And out-stretch'd claws holds summer's slow-pac'd hours;
Then springs the Lion forth; and after summer showers
XXIX
The Virgin robed in blue; the Autumnal Scale,In equal poise balancing night and day;
The Scorpion folding back his forked tail;
The Archer, and the Centaur's sylvan sway—
Haunts where the Kid and Goat are seen at play:
Then Winter sad outpours his watery urn;
Wherein the glittering Fishes catch the ray;
Such the celestial mansions, where in turn
Upon their golden track the fiery coursers burn.
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XXX
Thence round the earth in fair quaternion rangeThe Seasons, unperceiv'd in order steal
With alternation sweet of grateful change;
Like those Cherubic Forms in each reveal
A varied face diverse, wheel within wheel,
Weeks, days and hours inweave, ring within ring,
With speaking eyes unnumber'd make appeal,
Touching each other with outstretching wing,
And thus on living car the throne of God they bring.
XXXI
“Four spirits of the Heavens,” that walk the globeCommission'd and caparison'd for man
To shadow forth in their transparent robe
The four swift ages of his short-lived span;
And picture forth himself from sere to wan;
Memorials which still sweetly, sternly mind
Of seed-time and of harvest. Soft gales fan
The odorous flowers and leave the seed behind,
As feelings of our youth breathe sweet upon the wind—
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XXXII
Of childhood and of freshness, hope and love,Which hear the sounds of music; when the sight
Of mountains, woods and waters, all things move
Friendships and new affections; vernal light,
The spring-tide of the heart, makes all things bright:
Then seeds remain when leaves and blossoms fall,
Seeds which within are planted infinite,
When manhood hath like summer ripen'd all,
And winter wraps to sleep in her sepulchral thrall.
XXXIII
Then at Spring's coming opes the ethereal screen,The clouds expand their whitening sails, and flee
Shap'd by soft airs, sweet, musical, serene,
The moon looks on the sunny earth, the sea
Rejoices in ship-bearing majesty;—
The rivers in their courses laugh and sing,
The earth spreads forth her flower-fraught tapestry,
The birds upon the boughs are carolling;
And beasts and birds and men in sweetness own the spring.
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XXXIV
I deem that such are shadows which appearOf things as yet unseen, whereon the Dove
Sits brooding, and the Righteous Sun draws near,
Regenerating souls which in Him move,
Trembling to life and everlasting love:
When all that inner world whereon death lay,
Heart, intellect, and spirit, kindling prove,
And through and through touch'd with the enlivening ray
Summer put on, and own the still-increasing Day.
XXXV
One language is on all things great and small,Decay and change and death on all we see;
Nor can the universe's flaming wall
Though built of worlds, vast, beautiful, and free,
Shut out the writing of that stern decree,
The Hand which wrote in Babylon of old,
In characters of fire and mystery;
Like a worn garment He the Heavens shall fold,
Although that robe be set with diamond drops and gold.
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XXXVI
Then what is mortal glory at its height?'Tis but a dew-drop spangling on the thorn,
Ere 'tis absorb'd in smiles of its own light.
Yea, like those burning drops with day-lightborn,
Whose twinkling multitudes the ground adorn
With bright profusion of celestial tears,
Those stars and shining systems, on that morn
And time itself shall vanish with the spheres,
When of the Son of Man the sign in Heaven appears,—
XXXVII
Our Sun Himself reveal'd. This is the DayWhen man his God for plates of silver sold,
The day whereon o'er man's dark house of clay
He bade the Heavens their treasures to unfold,
Their silver orbs and palaces of gold;
With lanterns and with torches of the night,
In mantle of the dark that made him bold,
The traitor sought the Everlasting Light;
And such is man and God, O wondrous awful sight!
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XXXVIII
Three mysteries are there, one of God made man,Of God so great in power and majesty
Himself enfeebling down to our weak span,—
To be a child, to hunger, weep, and die:—
That He whom loftiest angels hid on high
On soaring contemplation ne'er could reach,—
Himself the fount of immortality,—
As man with wretched men should walk and teach,
Such love leaves far behind all human thought and speech.
XXXIX
Another mystery in the realms of grace,That He Who hath His dwelling in the skies,
Where naught but holiness can see His face,
To meanest of mankind whom men despise
Should bend His ear so low, and fix His eyes,
So near the lowest whisper of distress,
As heart to heart of each man testifies;
Should note each deed, word, thought,—to heed and bless,
As o'er a dying child a mother's tenderness.
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XL
In nature's kingdom is the wondrous third,The mystery of Godhead none can tell,—
That yesterday with all-creative word
He cloth'd this little earth on which we dwell,—
In every little leaf and flowery bell,
In particles of grain upon the strand,
In smallest touch to man invisible,
He left the impress of Almighty hand;—
To-day launch'd suns and worlds as countless as the sand.
XLI
And these great mysteries are One in three,The wreath which awful Wisdom hath put on,
On brow of our Incarnate Deity;
In glistening dew-drops shines the full-orb'd sun,
Or in the broad-faced sea; in herb or stone
The image of the Cross is found below,
And on the o'er-arching Heavens a place hath won;
Yea, stars shall grow dark at that Sign of Woe;—
So things both small and great Almighty Presence shew.
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EVENING.
I
Our Sun the full quaternion round us brings;—Three days—the Light—the Laver—and the Bread—
Then shedding health from His illumin'd wings,
With immortality brought from the dead,
Our God Incarnate is around us spread.
The Sun now speaks of Him Who into light
On the mount Olivet above their head
Ascended, and a cloud receiv'd from sight,
Who shall in clouds return like morning after night.
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II
If Heaven's great gem, the eye of this our sphereNe'er in his glory seems to fail or fade;
How great, how high that Sun, how wondrous near,
Who hath the Heavens His tabernacle made
In our Redemption, and from chambers laid
O'er the dark waters, girt with silent awe
Goes as a Bridegroom forth in light arrayed!
Nothing is hid from His all-searching Law,
From Him all things that are their life and being draw.
III
All life below blends with his course sublime;When he ascends on circuit of the sky,
With him all nature upward seems to climb;
When he his tower meridian holds on high
All nature opens to his genial eye;
When he descends on the ethereal walls
With him all nature seems to droop and die;
Like the strong man in Gaza, when he falls,
He buries with himself Day's high-o'erarching halls.
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IV
Then a new scene and countless lights are bornKindling the arch with many-twinkling fire,
Till the return of the eternal morn;
With station upon station, tier on tier,
Of eyes a living amphitheatre,
While man performs his part upon the stage,
All watching; each from his small orbit here
Behind the curtain goes age after age;
They stand as lamps around his passing pilgrimage.
V
Our Sun is hid—the witness now in HeavenGently takes up the sceptre in his room,
The beautiful exchange of silent even;—
The mirror of our life amid the gloom,
Decreasing still, still rising from the tomb;
Emblem of change and frail mortality;
Which borrowed lustres for awhile illume;
The Church which ever seems to wane and die,
And then when seeming dead to rise more gloriously;—
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VI
A boat which toils “in jeopardy,” and thenWhen waves and winds o'erwhelm her, hath she bowed,
And sees her Saviour's Image; then again
Bears on emerging from the storm and cloud.
'Tis sweet to watch from a tempestuous shroud
The moon ascending on the face of night,
And sailing in her brightness; when allow'd
To see far off the mountains in their might,
And rocks and streams more near rejoicing in the light.
VII
And sweet to watch the Church as from the dustShe tricks her faded beams with many a sigh,
And upward looks with self-renewing trust,
And seems awakening from the tomb to cry,
“Rejoice not o'er me, O mine enemy,
When I in darkness sit I shall arise.”
Again o'erflows her sacred treasury,
The handmaid arts fly with her through the skies,
And upon earth awake forgotten charities.
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VIII
Clothed with the Sun unchangeable, yet seenFor ever changeful, with her guiding ray,
As Earth its envious shadow lifts between,
Her strength alternating with sure decay.
Yet still unharm'd she holds her heavenly way,
Seen or unseen alike, the same remains,
And tides Baptismal own her ceaseless sway:
Thus fear checks hope; and sorrows hope sustains,
Supporter meet for man still held in sinful chains.
IX
And as the moon constant in naught but changeSets forth the phases of the Church below,
Thro' mutable gradations thus may range
The soul in Christ; and through a scale may go
Of bright and dark, of weakness or of woe;
Now with dimm'd hope, and now with stedfast choice
Forth issuing from her strait, His face to know,
E'en as the Bridegroom's friend to hear His voice,
Or as the Bride herself, and hearing to rejoice.
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X
Or may be more that she from Him recedesTo dwellers upon earth she seems allied
To greatness, full-orb'd brightness o'er her breeds;
But nearer she approaches to His side
She doffs that lustre and puts off her pride;
In spirit-like illapse she gliding nears,
Her life is hidden with the Crucified,
Emptying herself of glory and past years,
Till in His Presence lost from man she disappears.
XI
Yet rather would I deem that friendly light,As swelling to the Passover of yore,
Emblem of good, tho' changeful to our sight,
Cresting her bow with strength and golden store,
Then laps'd—unstrung—cast off; but yet the more
Filling her womb with children meet for Heaven,
Her boat unlading on the unseen shore,
And then returning: on her courses driven;
Such is the Church below to guide our wanderings given.
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XII
How beautiful the moon-light now enduesThe straggling village, where its mantle lies,
Pensively sleeping with its silver hues,
Transmuting what it touches with soft dyes,
Melts down distinctions of the glaring skies,
With depth sublime of shadow and faint line,
Ennobles what was vile and sanctifies;—
Strange power the harsh to soothe, the rude refine,
To make the earth like Heaven, the human seem divine!
XIII
The awe-inspiring outline of dark mountainLying at rest, blue vault ethereal;
And both reflected in the sable fountain;
The gabled cot, the silver-mantled wall,
Mansion or manse, rude hut or ruder stall,
All are made one in that pale lunar dress;
While the soft snow-like lustre over all
Enters the heart with solemn tenderness;—
Such is that symbol's power to hallow, change and bless.
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XIV
And with the moon, soft arbitress of night,To guide our path and cheer our thoughtful bed,
The witnesses come round and crown the height,
Diverse in glory, silver, green, or red,
E'en like the Resurrection from the dead;
Or like Angelic glories, Orders nine;
Or Apostolic choirs above our head;
Armies of martyrs, virgin choirs that shine;
Unnumber'd as the stars all Abraham's seed Divine.
XV
Like radiant clusters on the living VineHanging with worlds; bright orbs that without end
Their mutual ministrations intertwine,
And interchange of lustre love to blend;
Like angels which descend and reascend
The viewless stairs of Heaven; or Virgin urns
Which on the Bridegroom's coming shall attend;
But they themselves shall hide when He returns,
When far outshining all the Sign of Mercy burns.
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XVI
Those orbs nocturnal that adorn the gloom,And rise like sweet companions to our sight,
The traveller's path to guide, cheer, and illume;—
Those constellations numerous, vast, and bright,
They cannot one and all dispel the night;
Profitless their regards, and cold their rays,
To turn our sepulchre to life and light;
Ranging afar they seem on us to gaze,
As if to watch and ward—but cannot change our ways.
XVII
It is our Sun alone, our Eye in Heaven,'Tis Christ alone transforms our dark to day,
Who hath to night a resurrection given,
And to His Saints and Angels lent His ray;
That while on distant orbits they obey,
Their lamps celestial on our path may shine
To soothe and aid our sin-benighted way;—
While silent spheres around they intertwine;
Christ is alone our Life, our Light, and Day divine.
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XVIII
“The sun and moon and stars to Him shall bow,Like pursuivants which on His kingdom wait;
And signs and seasons in their order show
And gradual bring the everlasting state,
Like sentinels which range without the gate;
Flowers which come forth the language of the sky,
And of our fading seasons mark the date;
The vocal symbols of eternity,
Which changing usher in the years that shall not die.
XIX
They are for signs and seasons, days and years;—To guide the sailor o'er the trackless main,
As each upon its lofty home appears;
Arctos, or Southern Cross, or Northern wain,
Orion, and the Pleiads' watery train;
The traveller by your watches o'er his head
'Mid pathless solitudes of Asian plain
Steers his night wanderings, while o'er him spread
Gleam like a thousand eyes companions from the dead.
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XX
And he who tills the ground must look on high,To ply his toils, and read the starry flight:
Thus sons of earth mark the all-varying sky,
And can ye not, ye children of the Light,
Note all around the changeful signs of night?
Lift up your eyes, behold the Heavens around,
There signs invisible shall blend with sight,
And on the stars dread signals shall be found,
Ere the Archangel's trump the peal of judgment sound.
XXI
They are for signs and seasons, days and years,While traversing the pathless infinite
They speak the motion of the wandering spheres,
Of pilgrim-kanes and stations mark the site,
And number watches of the waning night
Until the Bridegroom shall again return,
Cloth'd with His own eternity of light;
Thus saints on high with bright example burn,
And nations as they shine Heaven's righteous paths discern.
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XXII
They are for signs and seasons more Divine;—Hence sacred Hours on golden hinges move
The doors of Heaven, and from their orbs that shine
Drop flowers that fade not, orisons that prove
Steps Heavenward, starry beads of prayer and love;
And sacred Years that bring back sacred Days;
While each, in its departing, from above
Its snowy mantle on Christ's cradle lays;
Or full-orb'd Paschal moon doth on His cradle gaze.
XXIII
The types and antitypes around us shine,And are for signs and seasons, years and days;
For Christ Himself is our appointed Sign,
Numbers our centuries, o'er daily ways
In His own sacred Twelve Himself displays,
And in His Church marks each returning seven;
While Saints'-days in their place cloth'd with His rays
Note thro' her horoscope the days of Heaven,
To guide our yearly course in silent watches given.
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XXIV
Haply in the Chaldean sage of yoreThere was a deeper wisdom than he knew,
Divinely hid in his fond foolish lore,
While he in fabling science would pursue
Affinities, conceal'd from mortal view,
Of things that are in Heaven with things on earth,
Vainly he caught the shadows of the True;
For destinies of man, death, age, and birth,
With other worlds combine; so boundless is their worth.
XXV
Not like those fabled gods that sat aloof,They interjoin with our mortality,
And in their orbits on the unbounded roof
Come forth, to order, guide, and beautify,
Have influence benign o'er land and sea.
Thou call'st them by their names, for they are Thine,
They answer in their watches, Here we be;
Then cheerfully they at Thy bidding shine,
And speak Thy peace to man with their own tongues divine.
221
XXVI
They look on us and draw nigh through the dayBut we behold them not till night reveals;
Unnumber'd ministrations mark our way
Of spirits which the light of life conceals,
Until death's solemn mantle o'er us steals;
Save that below, since Christ hath left our sphere,
In this the silence of His noiseless wheels,
Till in the dawn our Sun again appear
His Church and Saints are given our night to guide and cheer.
XXVII
And what if faith like a celestial glassShould shew Heaven's court encamp'd around in air,
Eyes that behold and sleep not, forms that pass
Of such mysterious sort beyond compare
That this material universe so fair
But faintly shadows them! it so must be,
For intellect and thought and spirit are
Surpassing far in order, kind, degree,
So infinitely great in power and dignity.
222
XXVIII
Like stars 'mid pearls reflected 'neath the sea,So things of sense and spirit range untold,
And how they blend is hid in mystery:—
How round our Sun seven shining orbs are roll'd,
How seven lamps mark'd the mercy-seat of old;
How Christ was like the sun reveal'd to sight
Amid seven Candlesticks of burning gold;—
How twelve hours make the day, and twelve the night,
Twelve Prophets and Apostles Twelve dispense the Spirit's light.
XXIX
As down time's river to the shoreless oceanWe haste, and gaze upon the flowing sweep
Of waters, all the scene is one wild motion,
Where clouds that range above, and woodland steep,
Blend with the reeds and rocks beneath the deep;
All in one sweet confusion mingled lie,
In one harmonious picture soft as sleep,
Scenes seen below and Heaven's blue majesty,
And difficult to part the things of earth and sky.
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XXX
The star of Bethlehem seen to move and stand,The new-born stranger own'd its Lord: the sun
Shrunk from mount Calvary: at man's command
The sun and moon stood still on Gibeon;
Stars fought for Sisera; what union
Have Heavens and Earth; what starry sympathies!
Sackcloth put on, break forth in orison
For man on earth; with him to being rise,
And fall like falling figs upon his obsequies!
XXXI
It is all mystery; and who shall tellWhy madness with the shades that o'er her fleet
Within a lunar cave appears to dwell;
Then Reason is unthroned from her high seat;
And spiritual agencies our senses meet
More mark'd, and worlds unseen which with us range;
Then tides of feeling, in the soul that beat,
Have with the moon intercommunion strange,
And with her veering orb veer in their mental change.
224
XXXII
How wondrous are we made, that earth-born wormShould hide within him such ethereal ray;
That he beyond the reach of cloud and storm,
Or moon or star or comet's lightning way
Should mount the altitudes of Heaven, and weigh
And mete out worlds, and know their paths, and see
Beyond the confines of the night and day!
Mirror'd in his deep heart they needs must be,
For in his flesh he hides an immortality.
XXXIII
'Tis not with stars to travel, height above,Nor depth, nor light, nor motion swift, nor space,
But reason, awe divine, and sacred love,
And earnest longings to behold God's face,
Whose silver chains reach to the Throne of Grace;
These are the drops akin to deity;
For these our God hath left the Holy Place,
The ninety-nine creations hid on high,
To put on Infant limbs, and lisp an Infant cry.
225
XXXIV
Therefore on that within me would I gazeWith silent wonder and adoring awe,
More than on worlds where rapt amazement strays,
Whose Maker in the flesh creation saw:
For He, the Sun of suns, would spirits draw
Into love's orbit, till in its sure spell
Obedience shall itself become their law,
'Mid other worlds of light unspeakable;
Lest unhoused “wandering stars” they should in blackness dwell.
XXXV
O blessed they, the children of the sky,Who bring about their ways,—into their heart,—
And live beneath that Omnipresent Eye,
Nor ever from that lov'd obedience start!
Through all the spheres of nature and of art,
This is the sole distinction amongst men.
O awful darkness, awful counter-part,
Dwelling with us, our earthly denizen,
Sign of that place where man shall ne'er see light again!
226
XXXVI
Our God Incarnate is and seems so nigh,E'en as the sun on the horizon's goal,
Yet inaccessible in Deity.
The planets round their sun in order roll,
Each in its orbit; and the Christian soul
He by His quickening Presence makes His own,
And interpenetrates its being whole,
Its life, its light, its All Himself alone,
Tho' unapproach'd afar upon His distant throne.
XXXVII
The universal Life, the only Good,To whom all souls tend with outstretch'd desire
Yet ne'er approach; but thence by love imbu'd,
As more and more they would to Him aspire,
In those approaches find their quickening fire,
Their rest in that obedience; His bright glance
Their immortality; the solemn choir
They join, and interweave the mystic dance,
Their being, strength, and light, to see His countenance.
227
XXXVIII
This is the sweet and solemn mystery,The diapason of their song profound,
While on the silver chain of sympathy
They seem to move with peace eternal crown'd;
And bring this nightly lesson all around,
That they whose mutual lights each other bless
Within the “many mansions” shall abound,
In all their varied glories, more and less,
And there for ever shine, the stars of righteousness.
XXXIX
Thus ever keep they in their courses even,And interweave fraternal charities,
Such sweet subordination is in Heaven;
While each to other of its light supplies,
Attracting and attracted; diverse size,
Diverse their light and heat, their orb and course,
Yet one is their obedience through the skies;
Each to its centre bound with ceaseless force,
Each drinking life and light from the Eternal Source.
228
XL
Such order and obedience is in Heaven,None fails or swerves upon his swift career
Where through the trackless space his course is given,
For did of disobedience aught appear
It would the golden ordinance unsphere,
And Heaven's bright-harness'd wains, zone within zone,
In turmoil terrible, with rended geer,
Car upon car, and steed on steed o'erthrown,
The universe itself would bring in ruin down.
XLI
Thus each man hath his order'd sphere assign'd,And orbit within orbit,—man with man,
And family with family combin'd,
Relationship and service, each his span
And circuit in the all-disposing plan.
He Who to worlds metes out their light and space
Hath set to each his post, the will and can
To work out for himself His destin'd place,
Measuring to each the gift of nature and of grace.
229
XLII
Thus Thou install'st the sun, Thy type to men,And to him, though a shadow soon to flee,
In our own short-lived state, short-sighted ken
Given an eternal seeming, as to be
An image of Thine own eternity;
Unchang'd yet changing all, like summer flowers,
Meting to all in order and degree
Space apt for kindling their internal powers,
The seasons, ages, years, the minutes, days and hours.
XLIII
Mysterious was that fable known of oldApollo in his watch-tower seen divine
Yet found with men in city, camp, or fold;
Or as Arachne in her central shrine
'Mid labyrinth of webs that round her twine
Sits sleepless; so throughout the liquid sky
Are track'd the circling paths, line within line,
Where Wisdom is with omnipresent eye
Watching from end to end in ceaseless charity.
230
XLIV
Or rather like the bird whose outstretch'd plumeGathers her nestling brood at fall of night;
So 'mid the dark and over-hanging gloom,
Brooding amid the peopled infinite,
And multitudinous worlds that come to light,
Rests the dim shadow of Omnipotence;
Stupendous and unspeakable the sight;
Yet while it overawes all human sense
Doth to the little worm his glowing lamp dispense.
XLV
The Fourth Day now is at its evening bourne,The moon hath climb'd up the ethereal wall,
And caught the beam upon her silver horn;
The king of day is in his western hall,
The mountain shades are length'ning where they fall;
Ye warders, shining in your own calm day,
Keep round your watch, so still and musical,
Whether we sleep, or wake with you and pray,
Until the Day shall break and shadows flee away.
| The Seven Days, or the Old and New Creation | |