Above the abysmal undivided deep
A train of glory streaming from afar;
And in the van, to wake the worlds from sleep,
One on whose forehead shines the Morning-Star.
------------
Long-rolling surges of a falling sea,
Smiting the sheer cliffs of an unknown shore;
And by a fanged rock, swaying helplessly
A mast with broken cordage--nothing more.
------------
Three peaks, one loftier, all in virgin white,
Poised high in cloudland when the day is done,
And on the mid-most, far above the night,
The rose-red of the long-departed sun.
------------
A wild girl reeling, helpless, like to fall,
Down a hushed street at dawn in midsummer;
And one who had clean forgot their past and all,
From a lit palace casement looks at her.
------------
A young man, only clothed with youth's best bloom,
In mien and form an angel, not in eye;
Hard by, a fell worm creeping from a tomb,
And one, wide-eyed, who cries, "The Enemy!"
------------
A lake of molten fires which swell and surge
And fall in thunders on the burning verge;
And one a queen rapt, with illumined face,
Who doth defy the Goddess of the place.
------------
Eros beneath a red-cupped tree, asleep,
And floating round him, like to cherubim,
Fair rosy laughter-dimpled loves, who peep
Upon the languid loosened limbs of him.
------------
A darkling gateway, thronged with entering ghosts,
And a grave janitor, who seems to say:
"Woe, woe to youth, to life, which idly boasts;
I am the End, and mine the appointed Way."
------------
A young Faun making music on a reed,
Deep in a leafy dell in Arcady:
Three girl-nymphs fair, in musing thought take heed
Of the strange youth's mysterious melody.
------------
A flare of lamplight in a shameful place
Full of wild revel and unchecked offence,
And in the midst, one fresh scarce-sullied face,
Within her eyes, a dreadful innocence.
------------
A quire of seraphs, chanting row on row,
With lute and viol and high trumpet notes;
And, above all, their soft young eyes aglow--
Child angels, making laud from full clear throats.
------------
Some, on a cliff at dawn, in agony;
Below, a scaly horror on the sea,
Lashing the leaden surge. Fast-bound, a maid
Waits on the verge, alone, but unafraid.
------------
A poisonous, dead, sad sea-marsh, fringed with pines,
Thin-set with mouldering churches, old as Time;
Beyond, on high, just touched with wintry rime,
The long chain of the autumnal Apennines.
------------
A god-like Presence, beautiful as dawn,
Watching, upon an untrodden summit white,
The Earth's last day grow full, and fade in night;
Then, with a sigh, the Presence is withdrawn.
------------
A sheer rock-islet, frowning on the sea
Where no ship sails, nor ever life may be:
Thousands of leagues around, from pole to pole,
The unbounded lonely ocean-currents roll.
------------
Young maids who wander on a flower-lit lawn,
In springtide of their lives as of the year;
Meanwhile, unnoticed, swift, a thing of fear,
Across the sun, a deadly shadow drawn.
------------
Slow, hopeless, overborne, without a word,
Two issuing, as if from Paradise;
Behind them, stern, and with unpitying eyes,
Their former selves, wielding a two-edged sword.
------------
A weary woman tricked with gold and gem,
Wearing some strange barbaric diadem,
Scorn on her lips, and, like a hidden fire,
Within her eyes cruel unslaked desire.
Two agèd figures, poor, and blurred with tears;
Their child, a bold proud woman, sweeping by;
A hard cold face, which pities not nor fears,
And all contempt and evil in her eye.
Around a harpsichord, a blue-eyed throng
Of long-dead children, rapt in sounds devout,
In some old grange, while on that silent song
The sabbath twilight fades, and stars come out.
The end of things created; Dreadful night,
Advancing swift on sky, and earth, and sea;
But at the zenith a departing light,
A soaring countless blessed company.