 | The poetical works of Lucy Larcom |  |
310
TRANSFIGURED.
How changed in an instant! What was it?
A word, or the glance of an eye,
Or a thought flashed from spirit to spirit,
As the rush of the world swept by?
A word, or the glance of an eye,
Or a thought flashed from spirit to spirit,
As the rush of the world swept by?
I cannot tell how, yet I know it,—
That once unto me it was given,
'Mid the noonday stir of the city
To breathe for a moment in heaven.
That once unto me it was given,
'Mid the noonday stir of the city
To breathe for a moment in heaven.
The heaven that is hidden within us
For a moment was open to me,
And I caught a glimpse of the glory
That perhaps we might always see.
For a moment was open to me,
And I caught a glimpse of the glory
That perhaps we might always see.
A sudden hush in the tumult,
A misty glimmer of trees,
And a ripple of shaded water,—
Yet oh! so much more than these!
A misty glimmer of trees,
And a ripple of shaded water,—
Yet oh! so much more than these!
A light and a life whence the freshness,
The color and coolness grew;
A baptism on human faces,
An earth created anew!
The color and coolness grew;
A baptism on human faces,
An earth created anew!
It came in the calm of communion
With a soul that had entered in
To the life over self victorious,
Arisen from the grave of sin.
With a soul that had entered in
To the life over self victorious,
Arisen from the grave of sin.
As spirit responds unto spirit
Without the sound of a word,
My heart-strings awoke to vibrations
Of music by sense unheard.
Without the sound of a word,
My heart-strings awoke to vibrations
Of music by sense unheard.
And my soul was aware of a vision
Too brief and too holy to tell:
But I saw that the realm of our longing
Is close to the world where we dwell.
Too brief and too holy to tell:
But I saw that the realm of our longing
Is close to the world where we dwell.
Yes, heaven has come down to meet us;
It hangs in our atmosphere;
Its beautiful, open secret
Is whispered in every ear.
It hangs in our atmosphere;
Its beautiful, open secret
Is whispered in every ear.
And everywhere, here and always,
If we would but open our eyes,
We should find, through these beaten footpaths,
Our way into Paradise.
If we would but open our eyes,
We should find, through these beaten footpaths,
Our way into Paradise.
311
We should walk there with one another;
Nor halting, disheartened, wait
To enter a dreamed-of City
By a far-off, shadowy Gate.
Nor halting, disheartened, wait
To enter a dreamed-of City
By a far-off, shadowy Gate.
Dull earth would be dull no longer,
The clod would sparkle a gem;
And our hands, at their commonest labor,
Would be building Jerusalem.
The clod would sparkle a gem;
And our hands, at their commonest labor,
Would be building Jerusalem.
For the clear, cool river of Eden
Flows fresh through our dusty streets;
We may feel its spray on our foreheads
Amid wearisome noontide heats.
Flows fresh through our dusty streets;
We may feel its spray on our foreheads
Amid wearisome noontide heats.
We may share the joy of God's angels
On the errands that He has given;
We may live in a world transfigured,
And sweet with the air of heaven.
On the errands that He has given;
We may live in a world transfigured,
And sweet with the air of heaven.
| The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | |