Mystic Trees by Michael Field [i.e. K. H. Bradley and E. E. Cooper] |
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[He whose lips have touched Christ's lips] |
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[He whose lips have touched Christ's lips]
He whose lips have touched Christ's lips
Writeth the Apocalypse.
Writeth the Apocalypse.
In deep herbage, by a stream,
He beholds the Heavenly Dream.
He beholds the Heavenly Dream.
Lo, he groweth very old,
But his love hath ne'er grown cold!
But his love hath ne'er grown cold!
Only, since his eyes are dim,
Christ hath sent to comfort him
Christ hath sent to comfort him
Vision of the very Word
That in Galilee he heard:
That in Galilee he heard:
And to him whose day declineth
Glory of the Sun that shineth,
Glory of the Sun that shineth,
Not as when on Earth He trod—
Very God of Very God.
Very God of Very God.
From the sweet mouth of the Lord
There proceedeth now a sword,
There proceedeth now a sword,
Wars of men and angels mingle,
And his ears with trumpets tingle.
And his ears with trumpets tingle.
Kings are slain and kings arise
In the passing of those skies.
In the passing of those skies.
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There is left a bloody trail
There is left a rolling wail.
There is left a rolling wail.
And the day sinks to its brink
And the marshalled spirits sink.
And the marshalled spirits sink.
Brown upon the glistened earth,
He perceives another birth.
He perceives another birth.
Very golden is the stream;
And he dreams another dream.
And he dreams another dream.
He hath written it all down;
And the sun is going down.
And the sun is going down.
Homeward he must now to sup,
And he rolls the parchment up.
And he rolls the parchment up.
Only, as he ties the bands,
Folding quietly his hands,
Folding quietly his hands,
To himself, in peace, he saith,
Will it be before my death?
Will it be before my death?
And he prayeth, turning home,
Even so, Lord Jesus, come!
Even so, Lord Jesus, come!
At the door he pondereth,
Will it be before my death?
Will it be before my death?
| Mystic Trees | |