TO * *.
189
We murmured, "Yea, no more
We know our Eden's place, yet is it well;
Although the gate be barred for us, the Door
Is ever open."
We know our Eden's place, yet is it well;
Although the gate be barred for us, the Door
Is ever open."
Suddenly there fell
A glory from the Heavens, and all the dell
Was filled with quivering light, as in a cup
Its woody hollow caught and kindled up
The sun's last sinking flashes; on the sky
There was no cloud, no flaming bar, no line
Of fire along the West, but solemnly
Heaven glowed unto its depths, as if the curse
Were lifted upwards from our universe
One moment's Sabbath space, and only Love
Stooped down above its World!—so from above
A smile dropt visibly on Earth, that prest
To meet that sign of reconcilement—blest
On brow and bosom blest.
A glory from the Heavens, and all the dell
Was filled with quivering light, as in a cup
Its woody hollow caught and kindled up
The sun's last sinking flashes; on the sky
There was no cloud, no flaming bar, no line
Of fire along the West, but solemnly
Heaven glowed unto its depths, as if the curse
Were lifted upwards from our universe
One moment's Sabbath space, and only Love
Stooped down above its World!—so from above
A smile dropt visibly on Earth, that prest
To meet that sign of reconcilement—blest
On brow and bosom blest.
We spoke no more;
Our souls were silenced; then we thought to fold
The pages of the volume worn and old
That still lay open, but the sunlight fell
And tracked each letter luminous and bold,
Until it shone a golden Chronicle,—
O sweet, sad Book, traced o'er
With marvels! light must full
Upon thy page from Heaven, before
We see that Love writ all!
Our souls were silenced; then we thought to fold
The pages of the volume worn and old
That still lay open, but the sunlight fell
And tracked each letter luminous and bold,
Until it shone a golden Chronicle,—
O sweet, sad Book, traced o'er
With marvels! light must full
Upon thy page from Heaven, before
We see that Love writ all!
