The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker Edited from the original manuscripts and annotated copies together with a prefatory notice and bibliography by Alfred Wallis |
The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker | ||
AISHAH SCHECHINAH.
Yet wreath'd with flesh and warm;
All that of heaven is feminine and fair,
Moulded in visible form.
A chancel for the sky;
Where woke, to breath and beauty, God's own birth,
For men to see Him by.
Light, that was life, abode;
Folded within her fibres meekly lay
The link of boundless God.
Moved but that infant hand,
Far, far away, His conscious Godhead thrill'd,
And stars might understand.
The Threefold and the One!
And lo! He binds them to her orient breast,
His Manhood girded on.
Beneath that bosom ran:
Deep in that womb, the conquering Paraclete
Smote Godhead on to man!
The Threefold and The One:
Her God upon her lap, the Virgin-Bride,
Her Awful Child, her Son.
This was the happy name of Eve in the days of her innocence. When she stood before Adam in her blameless beauty, he said, being inspired, “She shall be called Aishah,” that is to say, man's, or man's own, because she is taken out of Aish, “man.” It was afterwards, when she had shuddered into sin, that the man called the name of his wife Eve. Now the household word for the sinless Mother in the cottage at Nazareth, and on the lips of her Son, was also Aishah; it was in memory of the former phrase of Eden, a sound of mingled endearment and respect. It was not, in that native language, as it is in our own mean and meagre speech, a mere appellative of sex, “woman,” but Aishah, the tender and the graphic title of the twain: the bride of the garden, man's own, all innocent: and of Mary, maiden-Mother of God. So at Cana, and on Calvary, Jesus made chosen utterance of that only name, Aishah. At the marriage, when, with her woman's zeal for the honour of the feast, the Mother made haste to her Son, and said suddenly, “They have no wine,” Jesus answered, and with the long-accustomed smile, “What have we, Aishah?” He said in the exact letter, “What is to Me, and to thee, Aishah?” He signified, with a very usual idiom, “What have I, and what hast thou, Aishah?” He meant in the spirit of His voice and smile, “What have we not, Aishah? Are not all things under our feet? Mine hour, the hour that thou wottest of, is not yet come; but still”—and the well-known look of Nazareth and home revealed the rest. So she turned to the servants and said, “Whatsoever He shall say unto you, do.”
This, the cloudy signal of the Presence, is the most majestic symbol of Our Lady throughout the oracles. The sacramental element of the Schechinah, which I have named “Numyne,” was called by the Rabbins, “Mater et Filia Dei,” and was always a feminine noun. They say it was a stately pillar, or column of soft and fleecy cloud, which took ever and anon, as to Elias upon Carmel, the outline of a human shape or form, “Vestigium hominis.” Within its breast sojourned the glory of the Presence. as in a tent. Therefore I claim, with all reverence, the right to use the title “Aishah Schechinah.” The sound of this latter word is a dactyle.
The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker | ||