Part 15 (1/2)

I saw, in visions of the night, Creation like a sea outspread, With surf of stars and storm of light And movements manifold and dread.

Then lo, within a Human Hand A Sceptre moved that storm above: Thereon, as on the golden wand Of kings new-crowned, there sat a Dove.

Beneath her gracious weight inclined That Sceptre drooped. The waves had rest And Sceptre, Hand, and Dove were shrined Within a gla.s.sy ocean's breast.

His Will it was that placed her there!

He at whose word the tempests cease Upon that Sceptre planted fair That peace-bestowing type of Peace!

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_Thronus Trinitatis._

X.

Each several Saint the Church reveres, What is he but an altar whence Some separate Virtue ministers To G.o.d a separate frankincense?

Each beyond each, not made of hands, They rise, a ladder angel-trod: Star-bright the last and loftiest stands-- That altar is the Throne of G.o.d.

Lost in the uncreated light A Form all Human rests thereon: His shade from that surpa.s.sing height Beyond creation's verge is thrown.

Him ”Lord of lords, and King of kings,”

The chorus of all worlds proclaim:-- ”He took from her,” one angel sings At intervals, ”His Human frame.”

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_Cultus Sanctorum._

XI.

He seemed to linger with them yet: But late ascended to the skies, They saw--ah, how could they forget?-- The form they loved, the hands, the eyes.

From anch.o.r.ed boat--in lane or field-- He taught; He blessed, and brake the bread; The hungry filled; the afflicted healed; And wept, ere yet he raised, the dead.

But when, like some supreme of hills, Whose feet shut out its summit's snow, That, hid no longer, heavenward swells As further from its base we go,

Abroad His perfect G.o.dhead shone, Each hour more plainly kenned on high, And clothed His Manhood with the sun, And, cleansing, hurt the adoring eye;

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Then fixed His Church a deepening gaze Upon His Saints. With Him they sate, And, burning in that G.o.dhead's blaze, They seemed that Manhood to dilate.

His were they: of His likeness each Had grace some fragment to present, And nearer brought to mortal reach Of Him some line or lineament.

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_Fest. S. S. Trinitatis._

XII.