This Poem Was First Published Under The Name Of "One Of The Living Poets Of Great Britain." I Have Thought It Best To Revise And Publish It In My Own Name, And As It Is The Last Written By Me, And The Last I May Ever Live To Write, I Have Added, From Volumes Long Out Of Print, Some Selected Verses Of My Earliest Days Of Song.[112] Since These Were Written, I Have Lived To Hear The Sounds Of Other Harps, Whose Masters Have Struck Far More Sublime Chords, And Died. I Have Lived To See Among Them Females[113] Of The Highest Poetical Rank, And Many Illustrious Masters Of The Lyre, Whose Names I Need Not Specify, Crowned With Younger And More Verdant Laurels, Which They Yet Gracefully Wear. Some Who Now Rank High In The Poet'S Art Have Acknowledged That Their Feelings Were First Excited By These Youthful Strains, Which I Have Now, With Melancholy Feelings, Revised For The Last Time. It Is A Consolation That, From Youth To Age, I Have Found No Line I Wished To Blot, Or Departed A Moment From The Severer Taste Which I Imbibed From The Simplest And Purest Models Of Classical Composition. Time - Four Days. Characters. - St John - Mysterious Stranger - Pr'Fect Of The Roman Guard - Robber Of Mount Carmel, Converted - Grecian Girl And Dying Libertine - Elders Of Ephesus - Visions. St John In Patmos. War, And The Noise Of Battle, And The Hum Of Armies, By Their Watch-Fires, In The Night, And Charging Squadrons, All In Harness Bright, The Sword, The Shield, The Trumpet, And The Drum - Themes Such As These, Too Oft, In Lofty Song Have Been Resounded, While The Poet Strung His High Heroic Lyre, And Louder Sung Of Chariots Flashing Through The Armed Throng: - But Other Sights And Other Sounds Engage, Fitlier, The Thoughts Of Calm-Declining Age, More Worthy Of The Christian And The Sage; Who, When Deep Clouds His Country Have O'Ercast, And Sadder Comes The Moaning Of The Blast, To God Would Consecrate A Parting Lay Of Holier Homage, Ere He Pass Away. Part First. Cave In Patmos - Apparition - Mysterious Visitant - Day, Night, And Morning. 'Twas In The Rugged And Forsaken Isle Of Patmos, Dreariest Of The Sister Isles Which Strew The 'Gean, Where The Pirate, Wont To Rove The Seas With Scymitar Of Blood, Now Scowled In Sullen Exile, An Old Man, Tranquilly Listening To The Ocean-Sounds, And Resting On His Staff, Beside A Cave, 7 Gazed On The Setting Sun, As It Went Down In Glory O'Er The Distant Hills Of Greece. Pale Precipices Frowned Above The Track Of Dark Gray Sands And Stone; Nor Wood Nor Stream Cheered The Lone Valleys, Desolate, And Sad, And Silent; Not A Goat Amid The Crags Wandering, And Picking Here And There A Blade Of Withered Grass, Above The Sea-Marge Hung. The Robber[114] Scowled, And Spoke Not; His Dark Eye Still Flashed Unconquered Pride, And Sullen Hate To Man, And, Looking On His Iron Chain, He Muttered To Himself A Deeper Curse. The Old Man Had His Dwelling In A Cave, 20 Half-Way Upon The Desert Mountain'S Side, Now Bent With The Full Weight Of Eighty Years And Upwards; And That Caverned Mountain-Crag Five Years Had Been His Dwelling:[115] There He Sat, Oft Holding Converse, Not With Forms Of Earth, But, As Was Said, With Spirits Of The Blessed, Beyond This Cloudy Sphere, Or With The Dead Of Other Days. A Girdle Bound His Loins; Figs And Icarian Honey Were His Food; An Ill-Carved Cup By A Clear Fount Was Seen; 30 His Long Locks And His White Descending Beard Shook When He Tottered Down Into The Sun, Supported By A Slender Cross Of Pine, His Staff; And When The Evening Star Arose O'Er Asia, A Brief Time He Stood And Gazed, Then Sought His Melancholy Cave And Prayed. And Who, In This Sad Place, Was This Old Man? Who, In This Island, Where The Robber Scowled, Was This Old Man, Exiled And Destitute - Old, But So Reverenced, The Murderer Passed 40 His Rocky Dwelling, And Bade Peace To It? 'Twas He Who Leaned Upon Our Saviour'S Breast At The Last Supper; He To Whom The Lord, Looking Upon His Countenance Of Youth, His Calm, Clear Forehead, And His Clustering Hair, Said, What If He Shall Tarry Till I Come! Long Years - And Many Sorrows Marked These Years - Had Passed Since This Was Said; And Now That Face Was Furrowed O'Er With Age; And Weariness And Exile, In The Last Lone Days Of Life, 50 Were Now His Lot; For They Whom He Had Loved - They, The Disciples Of "Him Crucified" - Professing One Warm Faith, One Glorious Hope, Were All, In The Same Faith And The Same Hope, Laid Down In Peace, After Their Pilgrimage, Where The World Ceased From Troubling. He Alone Lingered When All Were Dead, With Fervent Prayer Soon In The Bosom Of His Lord To Rest. And Now He Comes Forth From His Rocky Cave 60 To Gaze A While Upon The Silent Sea, In The Calm Eventide Of The Lord'S Day; To Think On Him He Loved, And Of That Voice Once Heard On Earth: So, Pondering, On His Staff, The Old Man Watched Another Sun Go Down Beyond The Cape Of Tenos.[116] The Still Sea Slept, In The Light Of Eve, Beneath His Feet, And Often, As In Very Gentleness, It Seemed To Touch His Sandals, And Retire. And Now The Last Limb Of The Sinking Orb 70 Is Hid, Yet Far Away The Cloudy Track Reddens With Its Departing Glory. Hark! 73 A Voice, And, Lo! Seven "Golden Candlesticks,"[117] The "Angels Of The Churches" Upon Earth, "Seven Golden Candlesticks," And He, The Lord, Among Them, Like Unto That Son Of God Who Radiant On The Mount Of Vision[118] Stood, Now Recognised The Same, In The Same Shape. His Hair Was White As Snow; His Eyes Were Flame; 80 His Voice, The Sound Of Waters; In His Hand - His Raised Right Hand - Seven Stars; His Countenance As The Bright Sun, That Shineth In His Strength; And Yet Serene As The Descending Day. It Was The Lord: The Old Man At His Feet Fell Down As Dead; The Apparition Stood Glorious Above His Head, And Spoke: Fear Not; I Am The First And Last; The Last And First: Lo, I Am He That Liveth, And Was Dead: 90 And Now, Behold, I Live For Evermore - For Evermore, And Have The Keys Of Hell And Death![119] The Glory Passed - And All Around Is Still As Death: The Old Man Sinks To Earth, Astonied, Faint, And Pale. When The Slow Sense Struggled To Recollection, He Looked Around, Yet Trembling; But No Voice Was Heard; No Form Stood, Bending In Its Glory, O'Er Him. Then Seemed The Hills Of That Forsaken Isle 100 More Dreary; And The Promontories Bare Lifted Their Weather-Beaten Brows More Dark And Desolate. Back To His Lonely Cave The Old Man Passed; And, Wrapped In Thoughts Of Heaven, Lifted In Prayer His Clasped Emaciate Hands; 105 Then On His Bed Of Rushes In The Cave Lay Down To Rest Till Dawn. What Was His Dream? He Saw Again, As When The Rocks Were Rent, And "Darkness At Midday Was O'Er The Land," His Saviour Calmly Bowing His Meek Head 110 Upon The Cross: He Heard That Thrilling Voice Even From The Cross, Woman, Behold Thy Son! Son, Look Upon Thy Mother! Then He Saw The Forms Of Those Whom He Had Loved On Earth, And Heard Their Voices Still; And Stood Entranced, With Peter And With James, Upon The Mount Of Glorious Vision; Now He Saw, In Dreams, Again The Glistening Apparition Rise, And Stand Above Him. He Has Tarried Long 120 And Lonely In The World: The Vision Comes To Animate His Hopes - To Say, Live, Live With Me, For Evermore! And, Lo, The Keys! This Opens The Bright Mansions Of The Blessed; This Closes The Eternal Gates Of Hell, Upon The Gnashing Of The Teeth, And Groans Unutterable. So The Saviour Spoke, As Seemed In His Sleep. Ah! The Stern Shade Of Murdered C'Sar Rises: Art Thou Dead, King Of The World? For This Didst Thou Proclaim 130 Thyself A God - A Living God On Earth?[120] Let The Pit Hide Thee! But Thou Art A God! Then Bid The Fury Of These Flames Assuage Ere They Reach Thee! Who Shrieked? At The Sound, The Ancient And The Solitary Man Started From Sleep The Cold Gray Dawn Appeared, 138 When, Standing Opposite, With Steadfast Look, And In The Glimmer Of The Inmost Cave, He Saw A Stranger. Whence And Who Art Thou? With Trembling Voice He Asked - Whence? Who Art Thou? Perhaps The Spirit Of This Dismal Isle! Or, Cast Upon These Melancholy Rocks, A Poor And World-Forsaken Thing, Like Me! The Stranger Gazed Unmoved, And Answered Not: His Looks Were Those Of Pity - Of Respect - As Mingling Thoughtful Wisdom With The Grace Of Beauty. In His Hand He Held A Book: 150 He Opened It; And Never Light Appeared So Fair As That On His Majestic Brow, For Now The Sun Had Risen, And Its Beams Shot Far Into The Cave. John Gazed With Awe On That Majestic Man, He Knew Not Why; And Well Might He Have Gazed With Reverence, For Here, In This Rude Spot, He Only Saw Men The Most Dark And Savage Of Their Kind, Murderers, And Ruthless Criminals In Chains. 160 He Spoke To Them Of Truth And Righteousness - He Spoke Of An Offended God! Some Looked To The Bright Sun, Defying; Others Turned Muttering. He Spoke Of Pity, And They Heard, Even As The Relentless Hurricane Hears The Last Prayer Of The Faint Mariner, Whom Wintry Waves Had Dashed Upon The Rocks. Yet Ever With The Gentlest Offices, With Tears And Prayers The Holy Exile Strove To Wake Their Better Feelings, For He Laid 170 His Hands Upon The Sick, And They Looked Up With Hope And Blessed Him, And, Restored To Strength, Forgot The Vows They Made; Him, Too, Who Died 173 Hardened, And, As To Human Eyes, In Sin, He Laid In The Cold Grave, And Said A Prayer For Mercy To The God Of All, The Judge, To Whom All Hearts Be Open, And From Whom No Secret Thought Is Hid - And, Self-Accused, Mortal Himself, Presumed Not To Condemn. So Passed This Ancient Holy Man His Days, 180 Peaceful, Amid The Banished Criminals, Banished And Poor Himself, But Living Thus, Among The Sternest Of Their Kind, He Prayed For Their Salvation: - So He Passed His Days Peaceful, But Sad; And Now, With Anxious Gaze, He Turned His Look To The Mysterious Man, Who, Steadfastly Beholding Him, Thus Spoke: The Voice Of Prophecy Has Been Fulfilled; Where Is The Temple? Where Jerusalem? Ah! Wretched City! Famine, War, And Woe 190 Have Done Their Destined Work. The Living Drops[121] Dead On The Carcase He Is Burying! That Famished Babe Is Black! Oh! Turn Away! All - All Is Silent Now; And Thou Hast Seen This Prophecy Fulfilled, For Not One Stone Of Beautiful And Sacred Solima Is Left Upon Another! He Who Died, When He Beheld The City, O'Er It Wept, And Said, O Daughters Of Jerusalem! Weep Not For Me, But For Your Little Ones! 200 The Tender Words - Dost Thou Remember Them? Jerusalem, Jerusalem! How Oft Would I Have Gathered Up Those Little Ones, Even As A Hen Beneath A Mother'S Wing; 204 But Ye Would Not: And Now, Behold Your House Is Left Unto You Desolate! Alas! How Desolate! But Even In Those Last Days Warning Was Given, If Yet They Would Repent. A Bloody Sword, Like A Red Comet, Hung Above The Temple, And A Strange Sad Light 210 Sat On The Altar; While The Inner Gate, Untouched, At Midnight Burst Its Brazen Bars, And Stood Wide Open; Armed Men Did Fight Amid The Clouds; And, In The Dead Of Night, The Pale Priest Heard A Voice, Depart! Depart![122] So The Fair City Of Jerusalem Perished: But, Lo! Christ'S Holy Church Shall Rise - Rise From Its Ashes - Yea, Is Risen Now; Its Glorious Gates Shall Never Be Cast Down, Till He, The King Of Glory, Shall Appear! 220 He Founded It Upon A Rock - A Rock, Which Time, The Rushing Earthquake, Or The Storm, Whilst Earth Endures, Shall Never Shake! Old Man, Beloved Of The Lord, Wouldst Thou Know More - What Things Shall Be Hereafter? Rise And Mark! The Old Man, Lifting Up His Eyelids, Slow, Saw A Door Opened In The Heaven, And Heard A Voice, As Of A Trumpet: Come And See! Straight He Was In The Spirit, And The Voice 230 Inquired, What Vision Comes? The Seer Replied: There Is A Throne In Heaven,[123] And On The Throne One Sitteth, And He Seems, To Look Upon, Red As A Sardine-Stone - A Deep, Deep Red Is Round About, Yet, As A Jasper, Bright His Face! The Sun Is Of An Ashy Pale, 236 So Red And Bright That Form! Voice. Thou Seest The Throne Of The Eternal Justice. Look Again. John. There Is A Rainbow[124] Round About The Throne, 240 Tempering The Fiery Red. Voice. It Is The Bow Of Mercy, And Of Pardon, And Of Peace; Of Mercy, As When, Stealing From The Clouds, It Came Forth, Beautiful And Silently, Above The Waste Of Waters, And The Flood, Receding - Token Of The Covenant Of Grace Restored; While The Great Orb Of Day Shone Westering, And Some Few Small Drops Of Rain Fell Transient In The Sunshine, Where, Far Off, 250 The Wings Of The Ascending Dove Were Seen, And By The Altar, In The Rainbow-Light - That Light Upon The Altar And His Brow - The World'S Survivor Stood. What Seest Thou More? John. About The Throne Are Four And Twenty Seats;[125] And Four And Twenty Elders, Clothed In White, Each Having On His Head A Crown Of Gold, Are On Those Seats. Voice.[126] Dost Thou Not Hear A Voice? 259 John. Yea! Voices, Such As Earth Ne'Er Heard; And, Lo! There Are Seven Lamps Of Fire, Before The Throne. Voice. They Are The Spirits Of The Living God. John. Four Mighty Cherubims,[127] Which Blaze With Eyes, Having Six Wings, And Full Of Eyes Within, Are 'Round The Throne: I See Their Radiant Forms. Voice. These Rest Not Night Nor Day. John. I Hear Them Now, Proclaiming, Holy, Holy, Holy Lord, Lord God Almighty, Him Who Was, And Is, And Is To Come! And While These Cherubims 270 Give Honour, Glory, Praise, And Thanks To Him Who Sitteth On The Throne, - Voice. To Him Who Lives For Ever And For Ever! John. They Fall Down, 275 The Four And Twenty Elders, At The Feet Of Him Who Sitteth On The Throne, And Cast Their Crowns Before The Throne, And Cry, O Lord Almighty! Thou Art Worthy To Receive Glory And Honour, Majesty And Might! 280 Thou Hast Created All Things; And For Thee They Are And Were Created! Voice. Oh That Earth Might Answer Their Glad Voices! Oh That Earth Might Listen And Repeat! What More? John. I See, In His Right Hand Who Sitteth On The Throne, A Book; Without, Within Darkly Inscribed, Having Seven Seals. Now, A Strong Angel Cries, With A Loud Voice, What Man Is Worthy Found 290 To Loose The Seals, And Open That Dark Book![128] Voice. Ah! No One, In The Heaven Or On The Earth, May Open That Same Book, Or Look Thereon! Why Dost Thou Weep? John. I Weep Because No Man Is Worthy Found To Open, Or To Read, Or Look Upon That Book. I Weep For This.[129] Voice. Weep Not; But Say What Follows. 298 John. Lo! A Lamb, As It Were Slain - It Hath Seven Horns And Eyes. He Takes The Book From The Right Hand Of Him Who Sitteth On The Throne! Voice. What Follows? Mark! John. The Elders And The Mighty Cherubims Fall Down Before The Lamb, The Lamb Of God, With Solemn Harps, And Golden Vials Full Of Odours. Voice. These Are Prayers Of Saints On Earth: They Sing A New Song To The Lamb! John. And Shout: 310 Thou Only, Lamb Of God! Art Worthy Found To Take The Book, And Ope The Seals Thereof; For Thou Wert Slain, Thou Hast Redeemed Us From Every Tongue And Nation Upon Earth! Voice. Hearest Thou Aught Beside? John. I Hear The Voice, 316 Of Shining Mighty Troops, About The Throne, Angels, And Seraphim, And Cherubim, Ten Thousand And Ten Thousand Hierarchies, Lift Up Their Voices: Worthy Is The Lamb, Slain From The World'S Foundation, To Receive Riches And Wisdom. Blessing, Glory, Power Be Unto Him That Sitteth On The Throne, And To The Lamb, For Ever And For Ever! The Quail[130] Goes Clamouring By; The Old Man Raises His Eyelids, And The Vision Floats Away. Part Second. Morning In The 'Gean - Contemplative View - Seven Churches Of Asia - Superstitions - Crete, Egypt - Spread Of Gospel Light Through The Pagan World. How Beautiful Is Morning On The Hills Of Asia, Stretching Far, And Faint Descried! While, Nearer, All The Sunny Sporades,[131] That Break The Blue 'Gean, Shine In Light, On This Autumnal Dawn! How Musical The Fresh Airs, And The Ocean'S Solemn Sound Come To The Mountain Grot! Let Us Go Forth, 9 Said Then The Unknown And Mysterious Man. John. First On That Mossy Stone, Beneath The Arch, Kneel We, And Offer Up Our Orisons To Him Who Bade The Sun Go Forth: O God, Thou Didst Create This Living World! Thy Voice, When Darkness Sat Upon The Lonely Deep, Spoke - Be There Light, And There Was Light! Thy Hand Spread Out The Heavens, And Fashioned From The Dust Man, The High Habitant Of Earth, Now Fallen, And To Return To Dust Again: But Thanks 20 Be Unto Thee, O Christ! Who, When The Trump Shall Sound, And All This Mortal Pomp Is Passed, Shalt Call The Dead Up, Incorruptible! And Glory Be To Thee, O Spirit Pure! Who Hast Infused Into Our Hearts Of Flesh The Love Of God, Through Faith In Jesus Christ! Oh! In The Hour Of Death, And In The Day Of Judgment, Lord, To Us Be Merciful! So Prayed They, Suppliant, When Morning Shone Upon The Seas; So They Together Prayed, 30 Giving God Thanks That One More Day Of Light Was Granted To The Feeble And The Old, Ere Long To Rest In Peace. Upon Their Heads, As Slow They Rose, A Halo Seemed To Rest, Touching The Forehead Of The Aged Man: The Features Of The Younger, As He Stood, Were Mild, But Awful; Thoughtful, Yet Not Sad; Whilst, From The Caverned Rock, Into The Sun, The Lonely And The Last Apostle Came. As Both Together Stood And Gazed A While 40 Upon The Deep Blue Sea, The Younger Said: Listen, Old Man: I Was At Antioch, When Mild Evodias[132] Filled St Peter'S Chair; And Fair That Place, As Well Beseems The Spot Where First The Christian Name[133] Was Heard. The Vale Of Tempe, Sung Through Greece, Is Not So Fair As That Green Valley, Where Orontes Winds, Beneath The Grove Of Daphne, To The Sea; Scarce Eden Fairer, Where The First-Formed Man 50 Stood Up Majestic, In The World'S New Day. I Heard Evodias, And From Youth I Loved To Wander 'Mid The Scenes Of Old Renown, Hallowed By Prophets, And By Holy Men, Who Long From Earth Had Passed. How Beautiful Upon Those Hills And Mountains Were The Feet Of Them Who Brought Glad Tidings Of The Light, Now Risen On The Darkened World! I Sat Upon A Stone Of Fallen Jerusalem, 60 Sat Down And Wept, When I Remembered Thee, O Sion! And Thy Temple, And Thy Sons Scattered In The Wide World - Scattered Or Dead! Like Him, The Mighty Prophet,[134] Who Of Yore Watched The Dark Gathering Of The Clouds And Rain, I Stood Upon Mount Carmel, And Beheld The Great Sea Westward. Hark! Euroclydon[135] Is Up; The Tempest Rushes From The East; Fire And The Whirlwind Follow; But, O God! Thou Art Not In The Whirlwind Nor The Fire. 70 And, After, Came A Still Small Voice, Which Said, Go, Visit John, Sad And In Solitude. We Sailed From Joppa, In A Tyrian Ship, To Rhodes: A Skiff Was Waiting Near The Shore, On Which The Shadowy Moonlight Seemed To Rest; Then A Pale Mariner, Who Never Spoke, Conveyed Me Hither, Swift As Silently - Swift, Though The Passing Keel No Murmur Made, As The Dim Sail No Shadow Cast. I Looked, When I Had Reached The Shore, And It Was Gone! 80 I Saw Thy Mountain-Cave: I Stood And Gazed A While On Thy Gray Hairs As Thou Didst Sleep, And The Same Voice Which Came, After The Wind, Said Audibly, Reveal To Him The Things That Shall Hereafter Be, As I Unfold. I Watched When The Great Vision Came To Thee, Hearing The Voice And Answer: It Was Sent To Animate Thy Hope! Art Thou Refreshed, As Now These Airs Of Morn Blow Soothingly, And Breathe A Sad Repose? John Placed His Hand, 90 Pale And Emaciate, On His Breast, And Said: Thy Words Might Raise From Earth The Heaviest Heart. Then Both In Silence Gazed On The Blue Sea,[136] And Heard It Murmuring. John His Full Look Towards His Face Who Spoke Now Turned Intent, To Mark His Features. Dignity Serene Was On That Face; And As The Freshening Airs Stirred The Dark Locks That Clustered Round His Brow, A Faint Rose Mantled On His Cheek; His Cloak, Gathered Upon His Breast, Descending Touched 100 His Sandals; Whilst, With More Majestic Mien, Pointing To Asia'S Hills, He Spoke Again: Old Man, Lift Up Thine Eyes - Turn To The East: 103 How Fair, With Tower And Turret, By The Stream Of Clear Cayister, Shines That Ephesus, The "Angel" Of Whose "Golden Candlestick" Here Droops In Banishment! Hail, Smyrna, Hail! Beneath Thy Towers, And Piers, And Bastions, Far-Seen Through Intermingled Cypresses, 110 Ships From All Nations, With Their Ensigns, Float Silent; But, Lo! A Purer Light From Heaven Is On Thy Walls, While From The Citadel Streams The Triumphant Banner Of The Cross. And Beautiful Thy Sisters Of The Faith,[137] First, In The East, When The Wide World Was Dark, Laodicea, Philadelphia, And Pergamos, And Thyatira, Shine, While Sardis, At The Foot Of Tmolus High, Seems From The Wildering Plains Below, To Gleam 120 Like A Still Star That Guides The Sailor'S Way O'Er Adria![138] But, Alas! Here Antichrist Shall Rise With Power, Permitted From On High! Mourn, Ephesus, Thy Glory And Thy Light Extinguished! Sardis,[139] Thyatira, Mourn: Yet The Blessed Kingdom Of The Lamb Again Shall Be Restored, And All The Earth Bow Down To The "Unarmed Conqueror Of The World."[140] Turn To The South, There Are The Pines Of Crete, And, Hark! The Frantic Coribantes[141] Shout 130 To Cybele, The Mother Of The Gods, Drawn, By Gaunt Lions, In Her Car: They Move In Stern Subjection, And With Foot-Fall Slow, And Shaggy Necks Hung Down, Though Their Red Eyes 134 Flash Fire Beneath; Silent And Slow They Pace. 'Mid Cymbals, Shouts, And Songs, And Clashing Swords, Pipes, And The Dissonance Of Brazen Drums, She Bears Aloft Her Calm Brow, Turreted. John. Oh, Pomp Of Proud And Dire Idolatry! Crete, Other Sounds Thy Sister-Island Heard, 140 Far Other Sounds, When, On His Seat Of Power, Amid The Altars Of The Queen Of Love,[142] The Christian Faith There Touched A Heathen'S Heart. Paul Was In Cyprus: The Proconsul Prayed To Hear Of Faith From The Apostle'S Lips, But Elymas Withstood Him, Elymas The Sorcerer. He Beckoned Up His Legions Dire Of Fierce And Frowning Shadows. Paul, Unmoved, Smote Him, Amid His Gaunt And Grisly Troop, - Smote Him With Instant Blindness, And He Stood 150 Dark In The Midday Sun. Stranger. Was Not The Hand Of God So Visible, That Ships Of Tyre Might Bear The Tidings From The East To West From Tyre To Thule? South From Crete, Behold The Land Of Ancient Egypt, Scarce Discerned Above The Sea-Line, The Mysterious Land Of Isis, And Anubis; Of The Sphynx, Of Memnon, Resonant At Early Dawn,[143] When The Red Sun Rose O'Er The Desert Sands; 160 Of Those Vast Monuments[144] - Their Tale Unknown - 161 Which, Towering, Pale And Solemn, O'Er The Waste, Stand Mocking The Uplifted Mace Of Time, Who, As He Smites In Vain, Mutters, And Hies To Other Spoil! Yet There The Timbrelled Hymn Rings To Osiris; There, Great Isis Reigns, Veiled, And No Mortal Hath Removed Her Veil; There, Thoth,[145] First Teacher Of The Mysteries Of Sacred Wisdom, Hid In Signs Obscure, Is Still Invoked To Lead The Ghosts, That Pass 170 Through The Dim Portal, To Hell'S Silent King. John. Hast Thou Forgotten, That In This Dark Land, The Passover - Meet Emblem Of The Lamb Of God - Was First Ordained? That Here His Power In Wonder And In Judgment Was Displayed? "Fire Ran Along Upon The Ground,"[146] With Hail Mingled; And Darkness, Such As Might Be Felt - Darkness, Not Earthly, Was On All The Land. Arrested And Suspended At God'S Word, On Either Side The Billows Of The Deep 180 Hung Over Those Who Passed Beneath Their Shade, While Pharaoh'S Charioteers And Horsemen Sank In The Red Sea: "Not One Of Them Is Left." Stranger. And Miriam Took A Timbrel In Her Hand, 184 And All The Women Went Out After Her, With Timbrels, And With Dances, And They Sang: And Miriam Answered Them, Sing To The Lord, For He Hath Triumphed - Triumphed Gloriously! The Rider And His Horse Hath He Cast Down Into The Sea - The Rider And His Horse! 190 And The Dark Sea Was Silent Over Them. But Israel'S Children Safely Held Their Way, And The Lord Went Before Them In A Cloud Like To A Pillar, And A Fire By Night, Till Moses, Bearing With Him Joseph'S Bones, Beheld, From Pisgah'S Top, Far Off, In Clouds, The Land Of Promise - Saw That Blessed Land, And Died In Peace. John. Oh! May The Pilgrimage Of The Tired Christian, In The Wilderness 200 Of Life, So Lead Him To His Home Of Rest! Stranger. Look Northward - For The Sheet Let Down From Heaven Had "Its Four Corners Knit:" And Are Not These The North, The South, The East, The West - In Bonds Of Brotherhood, And Faith, And Charity? Mountains And Forests By The Caspian, Plains Of Scythia, And Ye Dwellers On The Shores Of The Black Sea, Where The Vast Ister Hurls, Sounding, Its Mass Into The Inner Deep; Shout, For The Banners Of The Cross Of Christ 210 Far As Your Dark Recesses Have Been Borne, By Andrew And By Thomas,[147] Messengers 212 Of The Slain Lamb - Even To The Utmost Bounds Of Wild And Wintry Caucasus! Aloft, In Silence, High Above The Rack Of Earth, That Solitary Mountain Stands, Nor Hears The Thunder Bursting At Its Base. John. So Stands The Christian, Calm Amid The Storms Of Life, Heaven'S Sunshine On His Head, And All The Cares 220 And Sorrows Of The World Beneath His Feet! Stranger. Yea! And The Cross Shall Further Yet Be Borne, To Realms Of Pagan Darkness And Deep Night! The Cymbals To The Gods Of Fire And Blood Shall Clash No More; The Idol-Shapes Are Fled; Grim Moloch'S Furnace Sinks In Smoke, To Sounds Strange And Unutterable; But That Shriek! It Came From Tauris, From The Altars Red Of Scythian Diana[148] Terrible! She, Too, Has Left That Altar And Its Blood, 230 As When Her Image Young Orestes[149] Bore (So Fable Masters Of The Pagan Harp) - Bore In His Ship O'Er The Black Waves To Greece. Greece! Who Can Think Of Thee, Thou Land Of Song, Of Science, And Of Glory, And Not Feel How In This World Illustrious Thou Hast Been, If Triumphs Such As Thine May Be Pronounced Illustrious, Worthy Thine Own Plato'S Fame! Here The Proud Stoic[150] Spoke Of Constancy, 239 Of Magnanimity, Which Raised The Soul Above All Mortal Change; Of Jove'S High Will; Of Fate; - And Here The Master,[151] From The Schools Of Human Wisdom, To His Votaries, Spoke Of The Life Of Man But As The Flower Blooming To Fade And Die; Alas! To Die, And Never Bloom Again! Vain Argument! 'Twas On That Hill, Named Of The Fabled Lord Of Battle And Of Blood,[152] Amid The Shrines And Altars Of The Grecian Deities, Before The Temple Of The Parthenon,[153] 250 That Shone, On This Illustrious Hill, Aloft, And As Supreme O'Er All The Lesser Fanes, Fronting The Proud Proficients In The Code Of Such Vain Wisdom, Vain Philosophy, Fearless Amid This Scene Of Earthly Pomp, Eloquent, Ardent, And Inspired By Heaven, The Loved Apostle Stood. With Look Upraised, And Hands Uplifted, He Spoke Fervently; Spoke Of That God, Whose Altar He Had Marked, "The Unknown God," Who Dwelleth Not On Earth, 260 In Temples Made With Hands, But In The Heavens, 'Mid Inaccessible And Glorious Light. In Him We Live And Move; He Giveth Life, And Breath, And All Things. Him Alone Behoves To Worship And Adore With Prayer And Praise. That God Is Now Revealed, Who, By His Son, Shall Judge The World In Righteousness, When Earth And Heaven Shall Pass Away; When The Last Trump 268 Shall Sound Above The Graves Of All Who Sleep; When All Who Sleep, And All Who Are Alive, Shall Be Caught Up Together In The Clouds, To Stand Before The Judgment-Seat Of Him Whom God Appointed Judge; Who Shall Descend From Heaven, With A Shout, And With The Voice Of The Archangel, And The Trump Of God, While Sun, And Moon, And Stars, Are Blotted Out, And Perish As A Scroll! As Paul Thus Spoke - Spoke Of The Resurrection Of The Dead - 'Mid The Proud Fanes Of Pagan Deities, 280 At Athens, The Stern Stoic Mocked; The Flowers Seemed Withering On The Brow Of That Fair Youth, Whom Epicurus Taught That Life Was Brief, Brief As Those Flowers Which In The Garden Bloom Of That Philosopher Of Earthly Bliss.[154] And What The Moral? Let Us Eat And Drink, For We To-Morrow Die. Oh! Heartless Creed! Far Other Lessons Christ'S Apostle Taught, Of Faith, Of Hope, Of Judgment, In A World To Come, Of Light And Life Beyond The Grave. 290 So Athens, Corinth, Macedonia, Heard The Tidings Of Salvation.[155] Hark! The Sound Is Gone Forth To All Lands: The Glorious Light Extends - The Light Of Faith, And Hope, And Joy - The Light From Heaven; Whilst He, So Falsely Called The God Of Day,[156] Shorn Of His Golden Hair, And Rays Of Morn, Shall Leave His Delphian Shrine, Discomfited, And Hide His Head In Night. The Dayspring Of Heaven'S Purer Light Hath Reached Imperial Rome: The Tyrant[157] On His Throne 300 Starts; At His Voice The Famished Lion Springs And Crashes The Pale Martyr At His Feet; While The Vast Amphitheatre Is Hushed, And Not A Sound Heard Through The Multitude, But That Dire Crash, And The Breath Inly Drawn, The Moment It Is Heard, From The Still Throng Shuddering; The Blood Streams From The Lion'S Beard, Whilst That Vast, Breathless Amphitheatre Bursts Into Instant Thunders To The Skies. But Not The Lion, With Blood-Matted Mane, 310 Nor The Fierce Fires About The Martyr'S Stake, With Rolling Smoke, That The Winds Warp Away In Surges, When The Miserable Man Blackened And Half-Consumed Appears; Not These, Nor Famine, Nor The Sword, Nor Death, Nor Hell, Shall Move The Christian'S Heart Or Hope, Or Fray Him, Steadfast And Victorious, Though He Die. Farther And Farther Yet The Light Is Spread:[158] And Thou Hast Lived To See This Gospel-Dawn Kindling From Asia, Like A Beacon-Flame 320 Through Darkness - Oh! More Cheering Than The Morn, With All Its Lovely Hues, On Sea Or Shore, As Now It Shines Around Us! John Replied: Teacher Of Wisdom, Or From Heaven Or Earth, We Know That Paul, Our Brother In The Faith, Proclaimed The Tidings Of "Him Crucified" From Rome To Spain; But Paul Is In His Grave: Soon Must I Follow Him, And Be At Rest: Who Then Shall Bear These Tiding Of Great Joy, 330 To All The People Of All Lands? Stranger. That Book Which The Lamb Opened, As A "Flying Roll" Angels Of Light Shall Bear With Wings Unseen, From Shore To Shore; And Thus, Though Paul Be Dead, He Still Shall Speak, And Millions Yet Unborn Shall Bless The Boon. Thou Shalt Reveal The Things That Thou Hast Seen; But That Same Book, Which None In Heaven Or Earth Could Open, But The Lamb, None But The Lamb Shall Close. Awake, Awake, 340 Ye Who Now Slumber In The Shades Of Death! Yes! Every Nation Shall Confess The Lord; Till All Shall Be Fulfilled, And There Shall Be, Through The Wide World, "One Shepherd And One Fold." For Deem Not This Small Frith, Called "The Great Sea,"[159] That Girds Yon Promontories, Girds The World: Without Is The Great Ocean, The Main Sea, Rocking In Tempest And In Solitude; Ten Thousand Isles Are Scattered O'Er The Waste Of Those Dark Waters, And Each Isle And Land, 350 All Earth, Shall Be One Altar; And From Earth To Heaven One Flame Of Incense, And One Voice Of Prayer And Praise And Harmony Shall Rise! So These Two Held Communion On The Shore Of Melancholy Patmos, When A Sound As Of A Griding Chain Was Heard, And, Lo! A Criminal Is Kneeling At The Feet Of The Old Man: God Has Been Kind To Me, He Cried, And Hid His Forehead With His Hands. Oh! Listen To My Tale, And Pray For Me. 360 'Twas When The Roman Sentinel, Who Paced The Platform Of The Dungeon Where We Slept, Had Called The Midnight Watch, And Overhead Bright Aldebaran Held His Course In Heaven, Westering O'Er Yonder Cape, I Waked, And Mused On My Eventful Life. Then To My Heart Came Words Which I Had Heard From Thee: I Wept Even As An Infant, And I Smote My Breast. The Brave Companion Of My Fortunes Died - 370 Died Yesterday, Stern And Impenitent As He Lived, Pitiless; And, Left Alone, I Cried For Mercy, Mercy Of That God Whom Thou Didst Call Thy Father; And I Prayed To Christ, And Cried, Me - Me - Oh! Pardon Me! I Dare Not Lift My Eyes. Thou, Father, Hear. I Am A Free-Born Citizen Of Rome, My Name, Pedanius,[160] The Decurion. When Titus Led His Legions To The East, Against The City Of Jerusalem, 380 To Raze It From The Earth; At The Last Day, When The Third Wall Shook To The Battering-Rams, Amid The Shrieks Of Horror And Despair, Flung From The Tottering Battlements, A Babe Fell At My Horse'S Feet.[161] Famished And Black, With Livid Lips And Ghastly, On The Ground It Lay; When, Frantic From The Crowd Within, A Wretched And Bereaved Woman Rushed, And Held My Bridle, Fearless Of The Swords That Flashed Above Her Head. I Heard Her Cries - 390 Protect Me! - He Is Dead! - My Child, My Child! Brave Soldier, For The Love Of God! I Looked 392 A Moment, There Was Famine In Her Face, Wasted, Yet Beautiful. Pitying, I Spoke: Follow; And Through The Clouds Of Smoke We Passed To The Green Olive Trees, And Then She Sank Upon The Ground, And, Pale And Still As Death, Lay Long - The Winds Just Stirring Her Dark Hair: I Brought Her Water From The Spring That