THE COAT WITHOUT A SEAM
There was a web, ere Time began,
Woven on the loom of God,
Woven for the need of Man.
Through the web two colors ran,
Blue that is the sky of God,
Red that is the blood of Man.
The web was woven, the web was one:
The stars sang when the work was done.
God had willed it to be worn—
Fit garment for the heavenly feast—
By Man, that was to be His son.
Only God could dream that dream!
When Time began, and Man was born,
He clothed himself in the skin of the beast,
And under it beat the heart of the beast.
Not till Man be born God’s son
Shall he wear the Coat without a Seam!
(Ah, the dream, the wondrous dream
Of a World without a Seam,
Man being one, as God is one,
Brother’s brother and Father’s son,
All earth, all Heaven, without a seam!)
The Roman strode through field and flood,
Blind as Fate with battle-blood;
Victory glittered in his hand;
And when he laid him down at night
Under the stars of some strange land,
Weary of the march or fight,
He wrapped his heart in the vast dream
Of a World without a Seam;
Yet the dream was not divine;
The fierce heart beat like marching feet:
“The World is one—the World is mine!”
That was the dream of states foregone,
Of Babylon, of Macedon;
Sleeked by whatsoever art,
It is the dream of the beast’s heart.
Massive-treading Rome paced on
(As Macedon, as Babylon,)
Into the dusk of states foregone:
She left her mantle still astream
Along the wind, her purple dream—
Not the Coat without a Seam!
The eyes of emperors see it float,
They hail it for the sacred Coat:
Men follow on through field and flood,
Blind as Fate with battle-blood.
See the sworded sceptred train,
Out of the dusk they all advance:
Iron-crownéd Charlemagne,
Barbarossa flaming past,
Sombre majesties of Spain,
Pomps of old monarchic France—
Supreme Napoleon last,
Sweeping his ermine-bordered robe
And gripping fast the globe.
(Nay, who is this that follows him,
A vision helmeted and grim,
A countenance pallid and aghast?)
—Into the dusk they all are gone,
As Babylon, as Macedon.
Not till Man shall dream God’s dream
Shall he wear the Coat without a Seam!
(Ah, the dream, the wondrous dream
Of a World without a Seam!
Man being one, as God is one,
Brother’s brother and Father’s son,
All earth, all Heaven without a seam!)
“What shall we do, we simple folk
Who walk as cattle in the yoke?
Surely the vision of this Coat—
Fit garment for the heavenly feast—
Is for prophet and for priest,
Not for men of little note!
Surely the quest to find this Coat—
Woven of empyrean thread
Heaven-blue and heart-red—
This is for Kings and Chancellors,
Parliaments and Emperors,
Not for men of little note!”
—Nay, this do ye every one:
All your days to dream God’s dream,
That Man, who is to be His son,
Shall wear the Coat without a Seam!