And shout:310
Thou only, Lamb of God! art worthy found
To take the book, and ope the seals thereof;
For thou wert slain, thou hast redeemed us
From every tongue and nation upon earth!
VOICE.
JOHN.
I hear the voice,316
Of shining mighty troops, about the throne,
Angels, and seraphim, and cherubim,
Ten thousand and ten thousand hierarchies,
Lift up their voices:
Worthy is the Lamb,
Slain from the world's foundation, to receive
Riches and wisdom. Blessing, glory, power
Be unto Him that sitteth on the throne,
And to the Lamb, for ever and for ever!
The quail[130] goes clamouring by; the old man raises
His eyelids, and the vision floats away.
PART SECOND.
Morning in the Ægean—Contemplative view—Seven Churches of Asia—Superstitions—Crete, Egypt—Spread of Gospel Light through the Pagan World.
How beautiful is morning on the hills
Of Asia, stretching far, and faint descried!
While, nearer, all the sunny Sporades,[131]
That break the blue Ægean, shine in light,
On this autumnal dawn!
How musical
The fresh airs, and the ocean's solemn sound
Come to the mountain grot!
Let us go forth,9
Said then the unknown and mysterious man.
JOHN.
First on that mossy stone, beneath the arch,
Kneel we, and offer up our orisons
To Him who bade the sun go forth:
O God,
Thou didst create this living world! Thy voice,
When darkness sat upon the lonely deep,
Spoke—Be there light, and there was light! Thy hand
Spread out the heavens, and fashioned from the dust
Man, the high habitant of earth, now fallen,
And to return to dust again: but thanks20
Be unto thee, O Christ! who, when the trump
Shall sound, and all this mortal pomp is passed,
Shalt call the dead up, incorruptible!
And glory be to Thee, O Spirit pure!
Who hast infused into our hearts of flesh
The love of God, through faith in Jesus Christ!
Oh! in the hour of death, and in the day
Of judgment, Lord, to us be merciful!
So prayed they, suppliant, when morning shone
Upon the seas; so they together prayed,30
Giving God thanks that one more day of light
Was granted to the feeble and the old,
Ere long to rest in peace. Upon their heads,
As slow they rose, a halo seemed to rest,
Touching the forehead of the aged man:
The features of the younger, as he stood,
Were mild, but awful; thoughtful, yet not sad;
Whilst, from the caverned rock, into the sun,
The lonely and the last Apostle came.
As both together stood and gazed a while40
Upon the deep blue sea, the younger said:
Listen, old man: I was at Antioch,
When mild Evodias[132] filled St Peter's chair;
And fair that place, as well beseems the spot
Where first the Christian name[133] was heard.
The Vale
Of Tempe, sung through Greece, is not so fair
As that green valley, where Orontes winds,
Beneath the grove of Daphne, to the sea;
Scarce Eden fairer, where the first-formed man50
Stood up majestic, in the world's new day.
I heard Evodias, and from youth I loved
To wander 'mid the scenes of old renown,
Hallowed by prophets, and by holy men,
Who long from earth had passed. How beautiful
Upon those hills and mountains were the feet
Of them who brought glad tidings of the light,
Now risen on the darkened world!
I sat
Upon a stone of fallen Jerusalem,60
Sat down and wept, when I remembered thee,
O Sion! and thy Temple, and thy sons
Scattered in the wide world—scattered or dead!
Like him, the mighty prophet,[134] who of yore
Watched the dark gathering of the clouds and rain,
I stood upon Mount Carmel, and beheld
The great sea westward. Hark! Euroclydon[135]
Is up; the tempest rushes from the east;
Fire and the whirlwind follow; but, O God!
Thou art not in the whirlwind nor the fire.70
And, after, came a still small voice, which said,
Go, visit John, sad and in solitude.
We sailed from Joppa, in a Tyrian ship,
To Rhodes: a skiff was waiting near the shore,
On which the shadowy moonlight seemed to rest;
Then a pale mariner, who never spoke,
Conveyed me hither, swift as silently—
Swift, though the passing keel no murmur made,
As the dim sail no shadow cast. I looked,
When I had reached the shore, and it was gone!80
I saw thy mountain-cave: I stood and gazed
A while on thy gray hairs as thou didst sleep,
And the same voice which came, after the wind,
Said audibly, Reveal to him the things
That shall hereafter be, as I unfold.
I watched when the great vision came to thee,
Hearing the voice and answer: it was sent
To animate thy hope! Art thou refreshed,
As now these airs of morn blow soothingly,
And breathe a sad repose? John placed his hand,90
Pale and emaciate, on his breast, and said:
Thy words might raise from earth the heaviest heart.
Then both in silence gazed on the blue sea,[136]
And heard it murmuring. John his full look
Towards his face who spoke now turned intent,
To mark his features. Dignity serene
Was on that face; and as the freshening airs
Stirred the dark locks that clustered round his brow,
A faint rose mantled on his cheek; his cloak,
Gathered upon his breast, descending touched100
His sandals; whilst, with more majestic mien,
Pointing to Asia's hills, he spoke again:
Old man, lift up thine eyes—turn to the east:103
How fair, with tower and turret, by the stream
Of clear Cayister, shines that Ephesus,
The "angel" of whose "golden candlestick"
Here droops in banishment!
Hail, Smyrna, hail!
Beneath thy towers, and piers, and bastions,
Far-seen through intermingled cypresses,110
Ships from all nations, with their ensigns, float
Silent; but, lo! a purer light from heaven
Is on thy walls, while from the citadel
Streams the triumphant banner of the Cross.
And beautiful thy sisters of the faith,[137]
First, in the east, when the wide world was dark,
Laodicea, Philadelphia,
And Pergamos, and Thyatira, shine,
While Sardis, at the foot of Tmolus high,
Seems from the wildering plains below, to gleam120
Like a still star that guides the sailor's way
O'er Adria![138] But, alas! here Antichrist
Shall rise with power, permitted from on high!
Mourn, Ephesus, thy glory and thy light
Extinguished! Sardis,[139] Thyatira, mourn:
Yet the blessed kingdom of the Lamb again
Shall be restored, and all the earth bow down
To the "unarmed Conqueror of the world."[140]
Turn to the south, there are the pines of Crete,
And, hark! the frantic Coribantes[141] shout130
To Cybele, the mother of the gods,
Drawn, by gaunt lions, in her car: they move
In stern subjection, and with foot-fall slow,
And shaggy necks hung down, though their red eyes134
Flash fire beneath; silent and slow they pace.
'Mid cymbals, shouts, and songs, and clashing swords,
Pipes, and the dissonance of brazen drums,
She bears aloft her calm brow, turreted.