74
A DRAMA OF EXILE.
Eve. O Saviour Christ,
Thou standest mute in glory, like the sun.
Adam. We worship in Thy silence, Saviour Christ
Eve. Thy brows grow grander with a forecast woe,—
Diviner, with the possible of Death!
We worship in Thy sorrow, Saviour Christ.
Adam. How do Thy clear, still eyes transpierce our souls
As gazing through them towards the Father-throne,
In a pathetical, full Deity,
Serenely as the stars gaze through the air
Straight on each other.
Eve.O pathetic Christ,
Thou standest mute in glory, like the moon.
Christ. Eternity stands alway fronting God;
A stern colossal image, with blind eyes,
And grand dim lips, that murmur evermore
God, God, God! while the rush of life and death,
The roar of act and thought, of evil and good,—
The avalanches of the ruining worlds
Toiling down space,—the new worlds' genesis
Budding in fire,—the gradual humming growth
Of the ancient atoms, and first forms of earth,
The slow procession of the swathing seas
And firmamental waters,—and the noise
Of the broad, fluent strata of pure airs,—
All these flow onward in the intervals
Of that reiterant, solemn sound of—God!
Which word, innumerous angels straightway lift
High on celestial altitudes of song
And choral adoration, and then drop
The burden softly; shutting the last notes
Hushed up in silver wings! I' the noon of time,
Nathless, that mystic-lipped Eternity
Shall wax as silent-dumb as Death himself,
While a new voice beneath the spheres shall cry,
"God! why hast Thou forsaken me, my God?"
And not a voice in Heaven shall answer it.
[The transfiguration is complete in sadness.
Thou standest mute in glory, like the sun.
Adam. We worship in Thy silence, Saviour Christ
Eve. Thy brows grow grander with a forecast woe,—
Diviner, with the possible of Death!
We worship in Thy sorrow, Saviour Christ.
Adam. How do Thy clear, still eyes transpierce our souls
As gazing through them towards the Father-throne,
In a pathetical, full Deity,
Serenely as the stars gaze through the air
Straight on each other.
Eve.O pathetic Christ,
Thou standest mute in glory, like the moon.
Christ. Eternity stands alway fronting God;
A stern colossal image, with blind eyes,
And grand dim lips, that murmur evermore
God, God, God! while the rush of life and death,
The roar of act and thought, of evil and good,—
The avalanches of the ruining worlds
Toiling down space,—the new worlds' genesis
Budding in fire,—the gradual humming growth
Of the ancient atoms, and first forms of earth,
The slow procession of the swathing seas
And firmamental waters,—and the noise
Of the broad, fluent strata of pure airs,—
All these flow onward in the intervals
Of that reiterant, solemn sound of—God!
Which word, innumerous angels straightway lift
High on celestial altitudes of song
And choral adoration, and then drop
The burden softly; shutting the last notes
Hushed up in silver wings! I' the noon of time,
Nathless, that mystic-lipped Eternity
Shall wax as silent-dumb as Death himself,
While a new voice beneath the spheres shall cry,
"God! why hast Thou forsaken me, my God?"
And not a voice in Heaven shall answer it.
[The transfiguration is complete in sadness.
