A memorial volume of sacred poetry by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring |
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The Divine Apocalypse.
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 | A memorial volume of sacred poetry |  |
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The Divine Apocalypse.
In the apocalypse sublime
The new created world shall see
Eternity embracing time,
Space swallowed in infinity;
Each sun, each star, each heavenly orb,
Shall one pervading light absorb.
The new created world shall see
Eternity embracing time,
Space swallowed in infinity;
Each sun, each star, each heavenly orb,
Shall one pervading light absorb.
No temple there, for boundless heaven
Shall be a temple; not a prayer
Shall by the trembling lips be given,
For all shall be devotion there;
All day, no darkness, no eclipse
In that divine apocalypse.
Shall be a temple; not a prayer
Shall by the trembling lips be given,
For all shall be devotion there;
All day, no darkness, no eclipse
In that divine apocalypse.
This world, these cycles, mortal life
And mortal death are but the scene
Of shifting, surging, struggling strife,
The powers of good and ill between:
Though in that strife, so rough and rude,
We see the conquering march of good.
And mortal death are but the scene
Of shifting, surging, struggling strife,
The powers of good and ill between:
Though in that strife, so rough and rude,
We see the conquering march of good.
But in the glorious time reveal'd
Each form of ill shall fade and fall;
And every, every wound be heal'd,
And God, our God, be all in all:
All light, all love, all God, all good,
An infinite beatitude!
Each form of ill shall fade and fall;
And every, every wound be heal'd,
And God, our God, be all in all:
All light, all love, all God, all good,
An infinite beatitude!
| A memorial volume of sacred poetry | |