God is the All,
So all must be praised
And welcomed and trusted
As angels from Him:
Angels of light,
Angels of darkness
Angels of joy,
Angels of woe—
Each as a messenger
Swift from His throne.
"Nothing can hurt you!"
Sings little Brother;
For each in its place
Serves but one end,
Namely, to shape you—
Fit you—complete you:
Till from the terror
And from the thunder
Grow through the gloom
Gleams of your Godhood!
Laugh at the voices,
Wailing in valleys
Like to Gehinnom—
Lurid with fires
Fed by the bodies
Of dead men forgotten!
Rise up and claim
All things as yours,
You who are God—
God in Becoming!
O WILL YOU COME WITH ME
O will you come with me away,
Brother—my Brother!
The night is spent, and breaks the day,
Brother—my Brother!
Have done with the dream and the pillowing stone!
Awake! Over vast spaces the winds are blown
To buffet and bear you from shadowing sleep.
Up the high places
Seraphim faces
Brighten and burn as the disk of the sun
Stands on the brow of yon mountain, to keep
Guard of your path till the journey is done!
THE KING OF GLORY
Give us this day a man so strong
He will not falter in his song,
Muting his instrument to please
The backward-glancing Pharisees.