Page:Shelley, a poem, with other writings (Thomson, Debell).djvu/27

Upon his central field of burning gold
   Great Raphael stood; and there with meek head bowed
And drooping wings and suppliant hands, behold,
   The Seraph knelt, whom still the sullen cloud
   Of mortal life enveloped like a shroud,
Through which his native glorious beauty shone
Star-sad, star-pure, star-tremulous, star-wan.

And Raphael said "How faint and sad and pale
   You now return to us, Beloved One,
From that far Earth of stormy guilt and bale
   Wherein thy errand now is wholly done!
   Hath ever God deserted a dear Son?"
While bending down, his princely hand carest
The saintly brow so pallid and deprest.
 
What voice of quivering anguish made reply!—
   "I am unworthy of thy ruthful love,
Thou pure Archangel! Never more may I
   Rejoin in bliss the stainless quires above,
   Who singing in their circles ever move
Around the footstool of the Throne of Grace;
Ah, never, nevermore behold His face!

"I dared—weak worm unconscious of my weakness!—
   To claim a service to our Lord and King—;
And I have failed;—in hope and faith and meekness,
In wisdom, knowledge, patient suffering,
   In prudence, calmness, power, in everything!
   The awful eyes of all Thy stars, O Lord,
Transfix me with rebukes, each glance a sword!