A DRAMA OF EXILE.
79
Softly and unlothly,
Through the door of opal,
We will draw you soothly
Toward the Heavenly people.
Floated on a minor fine
Into the full chant divine,
We will draw you smoothly,—
While the human in the minor
Makes the harmony diviner:
Listen to our loving!
Second semichorus.
Then a sough of glory
Shall your entrance greet;
Ruffling, round the doorway,
The smooth radiance it shall meet.
From the Heavenly throned centre
Heavenly voices shall repeat—
"Souls redeemed and pardoned, enter;
For the chrism on you is sweet."
And every angel in the place
Lowlily shall bow his face,
Folded fair on softened sounds,
Because upon your hands and feet
He thinks he sees his Master's wounds:
Listen to our loving.
First semichorus.
So, in the universe's
Consummated undoing,
Our angels of white mercies
Shall hover round the ruin!
Their wings shall stream upon the flame,
As if incorporate of the same,
In elemental fusion;
And calm their faces shall burn out,
With a pale and mastering thought,
And a stedfast looking of desire,
From out between the clefts of fire,—
While they cry, in the Holy's name,
Through the door of opal,
We will draw you soothly
Toward the Heavenly people.
Floated on a minor fine
Into the full chant divine,
We will draw you smoothly,—
While the human in the minor
Makes the harmony diviner:
Listen to our loving!
Second semichorus.
Then a sough of glory
Shall your entrance greet;
Ruffling, round the doorway,
The smooth radiance it shall meet.
From the Heavenly throned centre
Heavenly voices shall repeat—
"Souls redeemed and pardoned, enter;
For the chrism on you is sweet."
And every angel in the place
Lowlily shall bow his face,
Folded fair on softened sounds,
Because upon your hands and feet
He thinks he sees his Master's wounds:
Listen to our loving.
First semichorus.
So, in the universe's
Consummated undoing,
Our angels of white mercies
Shall hover round the ruin!
Their wings shall stream upon the flame,
As if incorporate of the same,
In elemental fusion;
And calm their faces shall burn out,
With a pale and mastering thought,
And a stedfast looking of desire,
From out between the clefts of fire,—
While they cry, in the Holy's name,