A song they learn whose lives eterne
Transcend yon twinkling night,
Pale Olea's silver beam[2] outsoar, 450
Shinea's golden flight;
Passing the angel sentries by,
Mounting o'er stars and suns,
To where the orbs that govern burn,
Royal and regnant ones.
Declare, O Muse of mightier wing,
Of loftier lore, than mine!
Why God is God, and man may be
Both human and divine;
Why Sons of God, 'mid sons of men, 460
Unrecognized may dwell,
So masked in dense mortality
That none their truth can tell.
From worlds afar, from heavenmost star,
Heard I, or seemed to hear,
A sweet refrain, as summer rain,
A cadence soft and clear.
A voice, a harp,—Was it the same?—
Harping those harps among,
Leading the lyric universe, 470
On those high hills of song?
In solemn council sat the Gods;
From Kolob's height supreme,
Celestial light blazed forth afar
O'er countless kokaubeam;
And faintest tinge, the fiery fringe
Of that resplendent day,
'Lumined the dark abysmal realm
Where earth in chaos lay.
Silence. That awful hour was one 480
When thought doth most avail;
Of worlds unborn the destiny
Hung trembling in the scale.
Silence self-spelled, and there arose,
Those kings and priests among,
A power sublime, than whom appeared
None nobler 'mid the throng.
A stature mingling strength with grace,
Of meek though godlike mien;
The glory of whose countenance 490
Outshone the noonday sheen.
Whiter his hair than ocean spray,
Or frost of alpine hill.
He spake;—attention grew more grave,
The stillness e'en more still.
"Father!" the voice like music fell,
Clear as the murmuring flow
Of mountain streamlet trickling down
From heights of virgin snow.
"Father," it said, "since one must die, 500
Thy children to redeem
From spheres all formless now and void,
Where pulsing life shall teem;
"And mighty Michael[3] foremost fall,
That mortal man may be;
And chosen saviour Thou must send,
Lo, here am I—send me!
I ask, I seek no recompense,
Save that which then were mine;
Mine be the willing sacrifice, 510
The endless glory Thine!
"Give me to lead to this lorn world,
When wandered from the fold,
Twelve legions of the noble ones
That now Thy face behold;
Tried souls[4], 'mid untried spirits found,
That captained these may be,
And crowned the dispensations all
With powers of Deity.
"Who blameless bide the spirit state, 520
Clothe them in mortal clay,
The stepping-stone[5] to glories all,
If man will God obey,
Believing where he cannot see,
Till he again shall know,
And answer give, reward receive,
For all deeds done below.