THE SWORD OF PAIN
39
Within the airy isle its waters fold
Seven mighty suns circle in quiv'ring gold;
And, over all, uplift above the gire,
Shaped like a cross, a Sword of Living Fire!
Emerald and amber, opal, white and blue,
Swift lights, keen tremors flash from point to
hilt;
And now blood-red it throbs, as though it knew
The whole world's agony, the whole world's
guilt.
Seven mighty suns circle in quiv'ring gold;
And, over all, uplift above the gire,
Shaped like a cross, a Sword of Living Fire!
Emerald and amber, opal, white and blue,
Swift lights, keen tremors flash from point to
hilt;
And now blood-red it throbs, as though it knew
The whole world's agony, the whole world's
guilt.
It is The Cross, sublime, uplifted high;
Great flames break from it, floating down the
sky;
As though the blood of Him who, undismayed,
Suffered our sins, dript from its burning blade–
As though the blood of all earth's noblest ones,
Dreamers and heroes, fell in fiery rain
To temper worlds new-born and mightier suns–
The Sword of Victory! The Sword of Pain!
Great flames break from it, floating down the
sky;
As though the blood of Him who, undismayed,
Suffered our sins, dript from its burning blade–
As though the blood of all earth's noblest ones,
Dreamers and heroes, fell in fiery rain
To temper worlds new-born and mightier suns–
The Sword of Victory! The Sword of Pain!
Trembling, I spake before that awful sword:
"Where is the golden city of the Lord,
With gates of pearl, and on its crystal sea
Peace and the solace of Eternity?"
"Where is the golden city of the Lord,
With gates of pearl, and on its crystal sea
Peace and the solace of Eternity?"
