Page:Poems Barrett.djvu/194

I saw alone, dim white and grand
As in a dream, the angel's hand
Stretched forth in gesture of command,

Straight through the haze—And so, as erst,
A strain, more noble than the first,
Mused in the organ, and outburst.

With giant march from floor to roof,
Rose the full notes; now parted off
In pauses massively aloof,

Like measured thunders; now rejoined
In concords of mysterious kind,
Which won together sense and mind!

Now flashing sharp on sharp along,
Exultant, in a mounting throng,—
Now dying off into a song

Fed upon minors,—starry sounds
Moved on free-paced, in silver rounds,
Enlarging liberty with bounds.

And every rhythm that seemed to close,
Survived in confluent underflows,
Symphonious with the next that rose:

Thus the whole strain being multiplied
And greatened,—with its glorified
Wings shot abroad from side to side,—

Waved backwards (as a wind might wave
A Brocken mist, and with as brave
Wild roaring) arch and architrave,

Aisle, transept, column, marble wall,—
Then swelling outward, prodigal
Of aspiration beyond thrall,

Soared,—and drew up with it the whole
Of this said vision—as a soul
Is raised by a thought! and as a roll