Content! it sounded like Amen
Said by a choir of mourning men;
An affirmation full of pain
And patience,—ay, of glorying
And adoration, as a king
Might seal an oath for governing.
Then said the angel—and his face
Lightened abroad until the place
Grew larger for a moment's space,—
The long aisles flashing out in light,
And nave and transept, columns white
And arches crossed, being clear to sight
As if the roof were off and all
Stood in the noon-sun,—"Lo, I call
To other hearts as liberal.
"This pedal strikes out in the air:
My instrument has room to bear
Still fuller strains and perfecter.
"Herein is room, and shall be room
While Time lasts, for new hearts to come
Consummating while they consume.
"What living man will bring a gift
Of his own heart and help to lift
The tune?—The race is to the swift."
So asked the angel. Straight the while,
A company came up the aisle
With measured step and sorted smile;
Cleaving the incense-clouds that rise,
With winking unaccustomed eyes
And love-locks smelling sweet of spice.