Poets •
Biographies •
Poems by Themes •
Random Poem •
The Rating of Poets • The Rating of Poems |
||
|
Poem by Philip James Bailey Festus - 35 Our first, our last, by heavenly fates impelled; We again meet; warned by the Spirit progressive, learn, Not man's design, mere compromise of good With ill, nor ill's, infeasible most, approves Celestial polity. Reason's plea, here shown Of gravity less than virtue's; virtue's, there, Convictive less than reason's. What the twain, Unversant in fate's ultimate laws, reject, Grace gratulative enjoins. Not separate life, But oned, perfection's source. An Oratory. Daybreak. Clara and Angela. Clara. I have erred, not sinned. My soul in faith assured, Feels conscious of acceptance, and of prayer, Night long companion of the stars, fulfilled. Relief and surety come on day's broad wing. My spirit, fountainlike, of the present full, O'erflowing with the future, life hath all I ever asked. God shriven then, be it mine What once I failed in to amend; to undo The wrong and do the right. Thee thank I, Lord! For this repose of spirit, this sense of peace By thine approof made holy. Hear I not,-- Fanning the calm of morn with sensible beat, The musical movement of an angel's wing, Vibrant with spheral airs? Nay, on my heart I feel the hint of a bodiless hand, as rose Wind--ruffled, might some pitying finger feel Its leaflets smoothening. Sweetened by seraph's breath, And scent of saintly garments seems the air. Speak, spirit! for sure I am, one circleth me In narrowing ring, and swiftening folds, as erst Rounded the worshipping priest, of primal faith, His arrowy rock, sun--sainted. Voice thyself, Angel! Angela. The spirit of her, thine earliest friend Am I. Clara. Thy best--belovèd, say. Angela. Best loved. I Thy trials, tears and sighs have numbered all Since the sad day thou followedst to the tomb The form once dearest to thy sisterly heart. Deem not thyself uncared by me, when first A desolate heart embodied, with pale arms Outstretched to the pitiless world, and stern quatrain Of elements, thou well nigh met'st fate half--way; Nor think I have never marked thy course through life, Most like a weeping and dishevelled cloud Trailing its forlorn honours o'er the sea Rude, reckless, unsympathetic, till it reach Time's western gates which, passed, ope but one way;-- Nor eyed thee from woe's waves soul--whelming, seize The pearl of spiritual content which yet Thine angel brow shall light, as it hath earned The approving love of saints in heaven who watch O'er two estranged hearts, in whose union earth Her summing good awaits. His spirit who still Loves thee, thou yet shalt bless; and, ere the end, Thine hallowing, will I guide unto his breast, God guiding me. For he himself foreknown Knoweth, called, chosen, but oh! not sanctified Not perfected, nor of saints celestial peer While yet one selfish thought otherwards dims The soul presumptuous, or with one wish, not For their good aimed, disturbs. To thee is given The glory of teaching this, to me the grace Of bidding thee so act. When he thou lovest, Urged by thy gracious influence, graffed in him, Lives consonant with his destiny, so conceives Of life's great ends that duties show as soul's Best privileges, obedience stands transformed To triumph, then the end indeed draws nigh. Till penitent of all sin and sanctified, Even spirit elect pleaseth not wholly God: Nor itself gladdens in him with that whole joy The perfected conceive who walk through life Heart--crowned, with the aureole of divinity Their reborn nature glorifying. Clara. Be this And all things as God would. Angela. Ye both have erred. Missioned for this cause prompt from heaven I come To show ye this. Thou shrankest to share with him His exaltation in the house of life, Miraculous, unconceived lest secular cares Thy way from peace and still humility warp, Mistrusting destiny;--nor he his heart Would lovewards ope, lest the magnificent end World--rule, of God determined, in his hands Waver, or wane, or e'er his thoughts quit. Heaven Otherwise orders. Thou to him shalt reach, With God's design the fruit of perfectness Pure grace; calm, holy, generative of peace And vital wisdom; not on truth's domain Deviating by chance, nor on strict virtue's grounds Trespassing, as by stealth; but in thy course Upheld by holiest patience, shalt with all Divine conditions congruous live, as earth Moves with the moving future of the stars, Fateful and fair as they: even here, in heaven, Quickened with life eterne, the saved, reborn Of God the Spirit, are spirits themselves divine Whose will the worlds await. Hence, seek thy fate. This union is decreed in heaven--and blessed. Clara. I yield. Albeit aye erring, let me not Urge pardon for defectible nature;--that Is God's decree, too; but with purest gold Obedience, haste to o'erlay God's mercy--seat, The hour of life he grants us here. Angela. It is well. This hoped I from the first. Know, in yon orb Where first,--this quit,--I, greatened in soul by death Rejoiced, thy loved one now, mine erst, to meet, And point his spirit hopeful of heaven, to truth;-- Orb, which then lit to rest the sun, but now Him ushereth, as thou seest, this morn to toil Celestial, and the glory of active life, I thy felicitous fate presaged, than mine Happier,--as seemed to eye of being which yet Earth's echoes thrilled; fate now fulfilled. Lo, there! See where yon wanton sun, not yet ripe aged, But, feigning infancy, with Morn's fair hours Sent to arouse him, toys, and bids them bind Their grossest gauzes round him; lo! he stirs, And suddenly every golden swathe that ringed His mummied limbs falls off; his wakeners scud Far, far, rose blushed; he triumphs innocently; And smiling gives to eternity the day He had promised ere he slept. Accept, so thou, Life's renovative season, and be content With all good compassable. Clara. Be it as heaven wills. Philip James Bailey Philip James Bailey's other poems: 1252 Views |
|
English Poetry. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |