 | The Vision of Prophecy and Other Poems |  |
227
A PARABLE-MIRACLE.
O World! the angels' eyes, struck with thy beauty,
Hung over thee, enamoured, in thy prime,
When thou, at concord with the law of duty,
Went'st onward with a brightness into time.
Hung over thee, enamoured, in thy prime,
When thou, at concord with the law of duty,
Went'st onward with a brightness into time.
Order was in thy goings, Peace possessed
Thy heart, and all was harmony and grace;
God, lifting up His hands, His last-born blessed,
And from His smile, light shone upon thy face.
Thy heart, and all was harmony and grace;
God, lifting up His hands, His last-born blessed,
And from His smile, light shone upon thy face.
O hadst thou stood but loyal to His will,
Thy primal glory had not ceased to shine,
For thee thy Maker's benison been still
A welling fount of influence benign.
Thy primal glory had not ceased to shine,
For thee thy Maker's benison been still
A welling fount of influence benign.
Angels had breathed thine unpolluted air,
As in the suburb of their native heaven,
And God Himself, no feared intruder there,
Beneath thy shady trees had walked at even.
As in the suburb of their native heaven,
And God Himself, no feared intruder there,
Beneath thy shady trees had walked at even.
228
But madness struck thee on a sudden; Sin
Banished sweet Peace, the angel, from thy breast,
And countless shapes of evil entered in,—
Suspicion, Sorrow, Changefulness, Unrest.
Banished sweet Peace, the angel, from thy breast,
And countless shapes of evil entered in,—
Suspicion, Sorrow, Changefulness, Unrest.
And now thy name is Legion; and afar
From God and goodness thou art wildly driven,
In the ascendant of a baleful star
Thy wail of anguish rises up to heaven.
From God and goodness thou art wildly driven,
In the ascendant of a baleful star
Thy wail of anguish rises up to heaven.
The golden chain of law and duty thou
Hast broken, in the frenzy of thy wrath,
But heavier fetters clank upon thee now,
And death's dark shadow haunts thy troubled path.
Hast broken, in the frenzy of thy wrath,
But heavier fetters clank upon thee now,
And death's dark shadow haunts thy troubled path.
Yet One has met thee on thy reckless way,
His power, His love, is on thee like a spell,—
The inward struggle strengthens day by day,
Which yet shall free thee from the fiends of hell.
His power, His love, is on thee like a spell,—
The inward struggle strengthens day by day,
Which yet shall free thee from the fiends of hell.
Yes! thou shalt yet, with raiment white and holy,
Come forth thy blest Deliverer to greet,
And angels shall behold thee sitting lowly,
Thy madness ended, at thy Saviour's feet!
Come forth thy blest Deliverer to greet,
And angels shall behold thee sitting lowly,
Thy madness ended, at thy Saviour's feet!
| The Vision of Prophecy and Other Poems | |