THE IMMORTAL WORD
One soiled and shamed and foiled in this world’s fight,
Deserter from the host of God, that here
Still darkly struggles,—waked from death in fear,
And strove to screen his forehead from the white
And blinding glory of the awful Light,
The revelation and reproach austere.
Then with strong hand outstretched a Shape drew near,
Bright-browed, majestic, armoured like a knight.
“Great Angel, servant of the Highest, why