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Another Dream.
A palace-temple I beheld.
Through its golden gates impell'd,
And measureless halls, a moving Crowd,
From every land where men may live and die,
Drew to the central dome.
There sat the Prophet-King enthronèd high,
White-robed, serene, in solemn majesty.
Melodious wail of anthems, waxing loud,
Burst in thundering billows of sound;
Incense creeping round
Involved his feet, and clomb
And hung with clouds the mighty dome,
Wreathing the sculptured saints and angels there;
While to the people's prayerful eyes
Angels and saints themselves were dimly congregated
Midway the dome, and in the outside air,
A throng of glorious messengers,—that waited
Eager for errands to the skies,
With wings of strength
To mount the steep of Heav'n and find at length
GOD'S own
Eternal Throne.
Through its golden gates impell'd,
And measureless halls, a moving Crowd,
From every land where men may live and die,
Drew to the central dome.
There sat the Prophet-King enthronèd high,
White-robed, serene, in solemn majesty.
Melodious wail of anthems, waxing loud,
Burst in thundering billows of sound;
Incense creeping round
Involved his feet, and clomb
And hung with clouds the mighty dome,
42
While to the people's prayerful eyes
Angels and saints themselves were dimly congregated
Midway the dome, and in the outside air,
A throng of glorious messengers,—that waited
Eager for errands to the skies,
With wings of strength
To mount the steep of Heav'n and find at length
GOD'S own
Eternal Throne.
Then my dream intershifted, and became
Unlike; and yet the things were still the same:
A lonely Hut on a moor;
A white-beard Man and poor;
Wind in the crannies, whistling and sighing;
Embers dying,
Red in the gloom,
Sending a sluggish bleary fume
To eddy around the rotten thatch;
And the beetles and centipedes ran about
From the holes in the floor;
And the rickety door
Stirr'd its latch
At push of savage creatures without.
Unlike; and yet the things were still the same:
A lonely Hut on a moor;
A white-beard Man and poor;
Wind in the crannies, whistling and sighing;
Embers dying,
Red in the gloom,
Sending a sluggish bleary fume
To eddy around the rotten thatch;
And the beetles and centipedes ran about
From the holes in the floor;
And the rickety door
Stirr'd its latch
At push of savage creatures without.
43
'Twas near midnight.
The falling flake
Had turn'd the black moor deathly white.
This Old Man mutter'd, half-awake,
“I am supreme over every King!
My talisman's greater than Solomon's Ring!
All wisdom and power to me belong!”
And the fire went out as he croon'd his lingering song.
Ice-cold grew his feet;
All his limbs lost heat;
His eyes ceased to wink;
His brain ceased to think;
His heart ceased to beat.
His jaw fell; but his forehead kept a frown.
Louder the wind began to blow,
And blew the Hovel down,
And hid the Corpse in snow.
The falling flake
Had turn'd the black moor deathly white.
This Old Man mutter'd, half-awake,
“I am supreme over every King!
My talisman's greater than Solomon's Ring!
All wisdom and power to me belong!”
And the fire went out as he croon'd his lingering song.
Ice-cold grew his feet;
All his limbs lost heat;
His eyes ceased to wink;
His brain ceased to think;
His heart ceased to beat.
His jaw fell; but his forehead kept a frown.
Louder the wind began to blow,
And blew the Hovel down,
And hid the Corpse in snow.
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