 | Poetical Works of Lionel Johnson |  |
VISIONS
To Mrs. de Paravicini.
I
Each in his proper gloom;
Each in his dark, just place:
The builders of their doom
Hide, each his awful face.
Each in his dark, just place:
The builders of their doom
Hide, each his awful face.
91
Not less than saints, are they
Heirs of Eternity:
Perfect, their dreadful way;
A deathless company.
Heirs of Eternity:
Perfect, their dreadful way;
A deathless company.
Lost! lost! fallen and lost!
With fierce wrath ever fresh:
Each suffers in the ghost
The sorrows of the flesh.
With fierce wrath ever fresh:
Each suffers in the ghost
The sorrows of the flesh.
O miracle of sin!
That makes itself an home,
So utter black within,
Thither Light cannot come!
That makes itself an home,
So utter black within,
Thither Light cannot come!
O mighty house of hate!
'Stablished and guarded so,
Love cannot pass the gate,
Even to dull its woe!
'Stablished and guarded so,
Love cannot pass the gate,
Even to dull its woe!
Now, Christ compassionate!
Now, bruise me with thy rod:
Lest I be mine own fate,
And kill the love of God.
Now, bruise me with thy rod:
Lest I be mine own fate,
And kill the love of God.
1893.
II
O place of happy pains,
And land of dear desires!
Where Love divine detains
Glad souls among sweet fires.
And land of dear desires!
Where Love divine detains
Glad souls among sweet fires.
92
Where sweet, white fires embrace
The red-scarred, red-stained soul:
That it may see God's Face,
Perfectly white and whole.
The red-scarred, red-stained soul:
That it may see God's Face,
Perfectly white and whole.
While with still hope they bear
Those ardent agonies:
Earth pleads for them, in prayer
And wistful charities.
Those ardent agonies:
Earth pleads for them, in prayer
And wistful charities.
O place of patient pains,
And land of brave desires!
Us now God's Will detains
Far from those holy fires.
And land of brave desires!
Us now God's Will detains
Far from those holy fires.
Us the sad world rings round
With passionate flames impure:
We tread an impious ground,
And hunger, and endure:
With passionate flames impure:
We tread an impious ground,
And hunger, and endure:
That, earth's ordeal done,
Those white, sweet fires may fit
Us for our home, and One,
Who is the Light of it.
Those white, sweet fires may fit
Us for our home, and One,
Who is the Light of it.
1892.
III
Since, O white City! I may be,
I, a white citizen of thee:
I claim no saint's high grace
Mine, but a servant's place.
I, a white citizen of thee:
I claim no saint's high grace
Mine, but a servant's place.
I think not vainly to become
A king, who knew no martyrdom:
Nor crown, nor palm, I crave;
But to be Christ's poor slave.
A king, who knew no martyrdom:
Nor crown, nor palm, I crave;
But to be Christ's poor slave.
93
Angels! before the Lord of lords,
Shine forth, His spiritual swords!
Flash round the King of kings
The snow of your white wings!
Shine forth, His spiritual swords!
Flash round the King of kings
The snow of your white wings!
But I, too fresh from the white fire,
Humble the dreams of all desire:
Nay! let me shine afar,
Who am Heaven's faintest star.
Humble the dreams of all desire:
Nay! let me shine afar,
Who am Heaven's faintest star.
Upon the eternal borders let
My still too fearful soul be set:
There wait the Will of God,
A loving period.
My still too fearful soul be set:
There wait the Will of God,
A loving period.
Closer I dare not come, nor see
The Face of Him, Who died for me.
Child! thou shalt dwell apart:
But in My Sacred Heart.
The Face of Him, Who died for me.
Child! thou shalt dwell apart:
But in My Sacred Heart.
1893.
| Poetical Works of Lionel Johnson | |