The Choir and The Oratory :: :: University of Virginia Library

Behold! He comes amid the clouds! As when
From Olivet he rose, the chosen few
In speechless wonder gazing, and withdrew
Into the opening heavens. Even so again
He comes; and every eye shall see him then.
But first that mystic drama must ensue,
The Prophet saw unsealed;—thus far how true
To the dire record of the historic pen!
How long the blood of martyrs cried to heaven!
Then base Apostacy with night obscene
Eclipsed the Church; the foul and wanton Queen
Displaced the Bride of Christ. Of trumpets seven,
Now six have sounded. One more cycle sums
The mystery of God. Behold, he comes!

II. Rev. iv.—v.

A throne was set in heaven, of living light.
The throne was filled: and He who sat thereon
Radiant with more than human beauty shone.
Circling the throne, with emerald tinctures bright,
The Bow of Covenant. Next, robed in white,
With coronals of gold, were ranged a zone
Of twice twelve reverend forms; and round the throne
Were mystic shapes, which, understood aright,
Denote the general host of God's Redeemed.
And, as they raised the never-ceasing song,
Prostrate those elders worshipp'd. But, behold!
Amid the throne there stood One who esteemed
Heaven's crown his native right; and harps of gold
Resound,—To Him who died worship and praise belong.

III. Rex. vi. 1—11, xix. 11.

Come, view the unsealēd scroll of mystic fate.
Lo! the Crown'd Archer on his snow-white steed
Victorious rides. But who must him succeed?
First, Discord on his fire-red charger sate,
With blood-stain'd sword. And next, War's direful mate,
Famine, on courser black; a time of need
Marked by the scales that weigh the precious seed.
Last, on his livid horse, in horrid state,
Death, by the Grave attended. Woe! woe! woe!
The Earth is ravaged, and the martyrs slain
Invoke the righteous Judge. With many a throe
Nature must heave, and long the Church complain.
But see, Heaven opens: on his white steed, lo!
The Conqueror returns for evermore to reign.

IV. Rev. viii.

The hour of incense past, seven Angels took
Their trumpets mystical. When the first three
Had each his signal given, on earth, on sea,
And on the inland waters, spring and brook,
Fell storm, and fire, and plague. The fourth blast shook
The orbs of heaven, and each appeared to be
One third eclipsed. Handmaid of Prophecy!
Furnish the cipher from thy storied book.
Tell of calamities that first laid waste
The Eastern plains; then, how on sea-girt shores,
Worse than volcanic fires the soil defaced:
The barbarous North on Rome its deluge pours.
Truth's tainted springs of poisonous error taste;
And her contracted light the guilty Church deplores.

V. Rev. ix.

When the fifth Angel sounded, downward fell
A star-like form, to whom was given power
To unlock the abyss bituminous. Dread hour
Of darkness! From the pitchy smoke of hell,
Thence steaming up, a host innumerable
Of locusts came, to conquer and devour.
Their prey is men: the emblematic shower
Did Islam's turban'd Saracens foretel.
That fallen star—false angel—is their lord;
His name, Destroyer. When that woe had pass'd,
Lo! the sixth Angel blew his direful blast,
Which loosed the Turkish powers' innumerous horde:
O'er trembling Christendom their horsemen poured.
How long shall that decrepid empire last!

VI. Rev. xvi.

Almost unravelled is the mystic scheme.
One trumpet more denounces penal woes
On the false Church and on Truth's dragon foes.
Seven golden bowls with those last judgements teem,
Pour'd forth on earth and sea, on spring and stream,
The orb of day, the bestial throne, and those
Who serve him, and where old Euphrates flows,
And in the air: that plague made men blaspheme
Thro' agony. Then Papal Babylon
Received her doom. Here, lights historic fail.
The final conflict fast is drawing on;
But who may dare to lift the figured veil?
Blessed is he that watcheth. See! upon
The horizon breaks a light which turns the Crescent pale.

VII. Rev. xvii. xviii.

Has not the seven-hill'd city been o'erthrown?
Fire, flood, and earthquake, pestilence, and dearth,
Laid waste the fallen Empress of the Earth,
Completing what the Gothic sword had done:
And herdsmen wandered 'mid the pastures lone,
Where once was heard the classic song of Mirth.
Ages elapsed ere Rome to second birth
Rose from the tomb, and called the world her own.
Though Ruin broods on the old Palatine,
The Coliseum stands. Still the foul seat
Of Papal fraud, the city, and its shrine
Idolatrous, are with all crimes replete.
Murd'ress, intoxicate, but not with wine,
Destruction waits in ambush at thy feet!

VIII. Rev. xi.2—3, xii. 6, xiii.

Twelve centuries and well-nigh threescore years
Have passed since Mecca's false Messiah fled.
Islam's enfeebled powers submit their head
In homage to the Christian, and their fears
Forestall their doom. Nor less infirm appears
The Papal Monster. Smit with anxious dread,
The banded despots view the silent spread
Of light and truth thro' Earth's twin hemispheres.
Thou throned Redeemer of thy Bride elect!
Head of the Church, to whom all power belongs!
Hasten thy glorious advent, to erect
The last and rightful empire. For the songs
And harps of Heaven the promised hour expect,
And Earth implores deliverance from her wrongs,

IX. Rev. xxi. 2; 1 Cor. xv. 51; 1 Thess. iv. 14—17.

The slumbering dust of Christ's Elect shall wake,
Roused by the trump of God, before the change
Shall pass on those surviving. Oh the strange,
Transporting scene! A moment then shall make
These glorious as their peers, that all may take
Their upward path at once, in bright array
Of jubilant procession, while the day
Of doom upon the astonished Earth shall break.
As when a king, quitting his regal seat,
Some distant province seeks, the city's flower
And reverend chiefs come forth their liege to greet,
Then swell his royal escort; at that hour,
So, in mid-air, the saints their Lord shall meet
Descending in the glory of his power.

X. 2 Peter iii. 10—13; Rev. xxi. 10—23.

The elements shall melt with fervent heat.
Earth's central fires shall pierce the fragile crust;
Her proudest works be all resolved to dust.
Who were the master-builders? War, Deceit,
And Death! Forts, temples, sepulchres,—unmeet
For that regenerate orb on which the Just,
Shall live immortal ages. Hence they must
Share Earth's last agony and Sin's defeat.
A fairer globe shall from the skies invite
The bridal city on that day of days.
Lo, built on truth, and walled with glorious might,
Its pearly gates each golden street displays.
God is its temple, and the Lamb its light;
Love the pure element, the language praise.