A DRAMA OF EXILE.
81
He shall master and surprise
The steed of Death,
For He is strong, and He is fain;
He shall quell him with a breath,
And shall lead him where He will,
With a whisper in the ear,
Which it alone can hear—
Full of fear—
And a hand upon the mane,
Grand and still.
First semichorus.
Through the flats of Hades, where the souls assemble,
He will guide the Death-steed, calm between their ranks;
While, like beaten dogs, they a little moan and tremble
To see the darkness curdle from the horse's glittering flanks.
Through the flats of Hades, where the dreary shade is,—
Up the steep of Heaven, will the Tamer guide the steed,—
Up the spheric circles—circle above circle,
We, who count the ages, shall count the tolling tread—
Every hoof-fall striking a blinder, blanker sparkle
From the stony orbs, which shall show as they were dead.
Second semichorus.
All the way the Death-steed, with muffled hoofs, shall travel,
Ashen grey the planets shall be motionless as stones;
Loosely shall the systems eject their parts coæval,—
Stagnant in the spaces shall float the pallid moons;
And suns that touch their apogees, reeling from their level,
Shall run back on their axles, in wild, low, broken tunes.
Chorus.
Up against the arches of the crystal ceiling,
Shall the horse's nostrils steam the blurting breath;
Up between the angels pale with silent feeling,
Will the Tamer, calmly, lead the horse of death.
Semichorus.
Cleaving all that silence, cleaving all that glory,
Will the Tamer lead him straightway to the Throne:
"Look out, O Jehovah, to this I bring before Thee,
With a hand nail-pierced,—I, who am Thy Son."
The steed of Death,
For He is strong, and He is fain;
He shall quell him with a breath,
And shall lead him where He will,
With a whisper in the ear,
Which it alone can hear—
Full of fear—
And a hand upon the mane,
Grand and still.
First semichorus.
Through the flats of Hades, where the souls assemble,
He will guide the Death-steed, calm between their ranks;
While, like beaten dogs, they a little moan and tremble
To see the darkness curdle from the horse's glittering flanks.
Through the flats of Hades, where the dreary shade is,—
Up the steep of Heaven, will the Tamer guide the steed,—
Up the spheric circles—circle above circle,
We, who count the ages, shall count the tolling tread—
Every hoof-fall striking a blinder, blanker sparkle
From the stony orbs, which shall show as they were dead.
Second semichorus.
All the way the Death-steed, with muffled hoofs, shall travel,
Ashen grey the planets shall be motionless as stones;
Loosely shall the systems eject their parts coæval,—
Stagnant in the spaces shall float the pallid moons;
And suns that touch their apogees, reeling from their level,
Shall run back on their axles, in wild, low, broken tunes.
Chorus.
Up against the arches of the crystal ceiling,
Shall the horse's nostrils steam the blurting breath;
Up between the angels pale with silent feeling,
Will the Tamer, calmly, lead the horse of death.
Semichorus.
Cleaving all that silence, cleaving all that glory,
Will the Tamer lead him straightway to the Throne:
"Look out, O Jehovah, to this I bring before Thee,
With a hand nail-pierced,—I, who am Thy Son."
