SONNETS.
93
In Heaven to hold our idols! and albeit
He brake them to our faces, and denied
That our close kisses should impair their white,—
I know we shall behold them raised, complete,—
The dust shook from their beauty,—glorified
New Memnons singing in the great God-light.
He brake them to our faces, and denied
That our close kisses should impair their white,—
I know we shall behold them raised, complete,—
The dust shook from their beauty,—glorified
New Memnons singing in the great God-light.
THE TWO SAYINGS.
Two sayings of the Holy Scriptures beat
Like pulses, in the Church's brow and breast;
And, by them, we find rest in our unrest,
And, heart-deep in salt tears, do yet entreat
God's fellowship, as if on Heavenly seat.
One is, And Jesus wept,—whereon is prest
Full many a sobbing face that drops its best
And sweetest waters on the record sweet:—
And one is, where the Christ denied and scorned
Looked upon Peter! Oh, to render plain,
By help of having loved a little, and mourned,—
That look of sovran love and sovran pain,
Which He who could not sin, yet suffered, turned
On him who could reject, but not sustain!
Like pulses, in the Church's brow and breast;
And, by them, we find rest in our unrest,
And, heart-deep in salt tears, do yet entreat
God's fellowship, as if on Heavenly seat.
One is, And Jesus wept,—whereon is prest
Full many a sobbing face that drops its best
And sweetest waters on the record sweet:—
And one is, where the Christ denied and scorned
Looked upon Peter! Oh, to render plain,
By help of having loved a little, and mourned,—
That look of sovran love and sovran pain,
Which He who could not sin, yet suffered, turned
On him who could reject, but not sustain!
THE LOOK.
The Saviour looked on Peter. Ay, no word—
No gesture of reproach! The Heavens serene,
Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean
Their thunders that way! The forsaken Lord
Looked only, on the traitor. None record
What that look was; none guess: for those who have seen
Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen,
Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword,
No gesture of reproach! The Heavens serene,
Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean
Their thunders that way! The forsaken Lord
Looked only, on the traitor. None record
What that look was; none guess: for those who have seen
Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen,
Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword,
