WHITSUNTIDE

When Christ from off the mountain crest

Before their marvelling eyes,

Whilst His disciples still He blessed,

Was caught into the skies--

The Angels, whose harmonious breath

Erstwhile proclaimed His birth,

Now hailed Him Victor over Death,

Redeemer of the Earth;

"Lift up your heads, ye Heavenly Gates!"

Rang forth their joyful strain;

"For lo! the King of Glory waits

To enter you again!"

Thus, heralded, from Heaven to Heaven

Magnifical He goes,

Until the last of all the seven

To greet His coming glows;

While He the Eternal long left lone

To meet Him doth upstand,

Then sets His Son upon the Throne

Once more at His right hand.

Whereat with one triumphal hymn

Majestically blent

The Cherubim and Seraphim

The Universe have rent.

Last, from the splendrous mercy seat,

Of Father and of Son,

To Earth, their purpose to complete,

Descends the Promised One.

Like to a mighty rushing wind

He falls, subduing space,

To where Christ's chosen with one mind

Are gathered in one place.

With tongues of flame He lights on each,

Whose wonder-working spell

Fires them in every human speech

Heaven's message forth to tell.

The coward brood of doubt and fear

And hesitance are fled;

Before the quickening Comforter

They rise as from the dead.

The bolted door is yawning wide,

The barred gate backward flung;

And forth unarmed and fearless-eyed,

They fare their foes among.

A Celtic Psaltery Being Mainly Renderings in English Verse from Irish & Welsh Poetry · 第 139 / 178 题