Chapter III: Front Matter (3)

I lift mine eyes to see: earth vanisheth. I lift up wistful eyes and bend my knee: Trembling, bowed down, and face to face with Death, I lift mine eyes to see.

Lo, what I see is Death that shadows me: Yet whilst I, seeing, draw a shuddering breath, Death like a mist grows rare perceptibly.

Beyond the darkness light, beyond the scathe Healing, beyond the Cross a palm-branch tree, Beyond Death Life, on evidence of faith: I lift mine eyes to see.

“Yet a little while.”

Heaven is not far, tho’ far the sky Overarching earth and main. It takes not long to live and die, Die, revive, and rise again. Not long: how long? Oh, long re-echoing song! O Lord, how long?

“Behold, it was very good.”

All things are fair, if we had eyes to see How first God made them goodly everywhere: And goodly still in Paradise they be,— All things are fair.

O Lord, the solemn heavens Thy praise declare; The multi-fashioned saints bring praise to Thee, As doves fly home and cast away their care.

As doves on divers branches of their tree, Perched high or low, sit all contented there Not mourning any more; in each degree All things are fair.

“Whatsoever is right, that shall we receive.”

When all the overwork of life Is finished once, and fallen asleep We shrink no more beneath the knife, But having sown prepare to reap; Delivered from the crossway rough, Delivered from the thorny scourge, Delivered from the tossing surge, Then shall we find—(please God!)—it is enough?

Not in this world of hope deferred, This world of perishable stuff; Eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard, Nor heart conceived that full “enough”: Here moans the separating sea, Here harvests fail, here breaks the heart; There God shall join and no man part, All one in Christ, so one—(please God!)—with me.

This near-at-hand land breeds pain by measure: That far-away land overflows with treasure Of heaped-up good pleasure.

Our land that we see is befouled by evil: The land that we see not makes mirth and revel, Far from death and devil.

This land hath for music sobbing and sighing: That land hath soft speech and sweet soft replying Of all loves undying.

This land hath for pastime errors and follies: That land hath unending unflagging solace Of full-chanted “Holies.”

Up and away, call the Angels to us; Come to our home where no foes pursue us, And no tears bedew us;

Where that which riseth sets again never, Where that which springeth flows in a river For ever and ever;

Where harvest justifies labour of sowing, Where that which budded comes to the blowing Sweet beyond your knowing.

Come and laugh with us, sing in our singing; Come, yearn no more, but rest in your clinging. See what we are bringing;

Crowns like our own crowns, robes for your wearing; For love of you we kiss them in bearing, All good with you sharing:

Over you gladdening, in you delighting; Come from your famine, your failure, your fighting; Come to full wrong-righting.

Come, where all balm is garnered to ease you; Come, where all beauty is spread out to please you; Come, gaze upon Jesu.

“Was Thy Wrath against the Sea?”

The sea laments with unappeasable Hankering wail of loss, Lifting its hands on high and passing by Out of the lovely light: No foambow any more may crest that swell Of clamorous waves which toss; Lifting its hands on high it passes by From light into the night. Peace, peace, thou sea! God’s wisdom worketh well, Assigns it crown or cross: Lift we all hands on high, and passing by Attest: God doeth right.

“And there was no more Sea.”

Voices from above and from beneath, Voices of creation near and far, Voices out of life and out of death, Out of measureless space, Sun, moon, star, In oneness of contentment offering praise.

Heaven and earth and sea jubilant, Jubilant all things that dwell therein; Filled to fullest overflow they chant, Still roll onward, swell, Still begin, Never flagging praise interminable.

Thou who must fall silent in a while, Chant thy sweetest, gladdest, best, at once; Sun thyself to-day, keep peace and smile; By love upward send Orisons, Accounting love thy lot and love thine end.

Roses on a brier, Pearls from out the bitter sea, Such is earth’s desire However pure it be.

Neither bud nor brier, Neither pearl nor brine for me: Be stilled, my long desire; There shall be no more sea.

Be stilled, my passionate heart; Old earth shall end, new earth shall be: Be still, and earn thy part Where shall be no more sea.

We are of those who tremble at Thy word; Who faltering walk in darkness toward our close Of mortal life, by terrors curbed and spurred: We are of those.

We journey to that land which no man knows Who any more can make his voice be heard Above the clamour of our wants and woes.

Not ours the hearts Thy loftiest love hath stirred, Not such as we Thy lily and Thy rose:— Yet, Hope of those who hope with hope deferred, We are of those.

“Awake, thou that sleepest.”

The night is far spent, the day is at hand: Let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, And let us put on the armour of light. Night for the dead in their stiffness and starkness! Day for the living who mount in their might Out of their graves to the beautiful land.

Far, far away lies the beautiful land: Mount on wide wings of exceeding desire, Mount, look not back, mount to life and to light, Mount by the gleam of your lamps all on fire Up from the dead men and up from the night. The night is far spent, the day is at hand.

We know not when, we know not where, We know not what that world will be; But this we know: it will be fair To see.

With heart athirst and thirsty face We know and know not what shall be: Christ Jesus bring us of His grace To see.

Christ Jesus bring us of His grace, Beyond all prayers our hope can pray, One day to see Him face to Face, One day.

“I will lift up mine eyes unto the bills.”

When sick of life and all the world— How sick of all desire but Thee!— I lift mine eyes up to the hills, Eyes of my heart that see, I see beyond all death and ills Refreshing green for heart and eyes, The golden streets and gateways pearled, The trees of Paradise.

“There is a time for all things,” saith The Word of Truth, Thyself the Word; And many things Thou reasonest of: A time for hope deferred, But time is now for grief and fears; A time for life, but now is death; Oh, when shall be the time of love When Thou shalt wipe our tears?

Then the new Heavens and Earth shall be Where righteousness shall dwell indeed; There shall be no more blight, nor need, Nor barrier of the sea; No sun and moon alternating, For God shall be the Light thereof; No sorrow more, no death, no sting, For God Who reigns is Love.

“Then whose shall those things be?”

Oh what is earth, that we should build Our houses here, and seek concealed Poor treasure, and add field to field, And heap to heap, and store to store, Still grasping more and seeking more, While step by step Death nears the door?

“This banner over me was Love.”

In that world we weary to attain, O Love’s furled banner floats at large unfurled: There is no more doubt and no more pain In that world.

There are gems and gold and inlets pearled; There the verdure fadeth not again; There no clinging tendrils droop uncurled.

Here incessant tides stir up the main, Stormy miry depths aloft are hurled: There is no more sea, or storm, or stain, In that world.

Beloved, yield thy time to God, for He Will make eternity thy recompense; Give all thy substance for His Love, and be Beatified past earth’s experience. Serve Him in bonds, until He set thee free; Serve Him in dust, until He lift thee thence; Till death be swallowed up in victory When the great trumpet sounds to bid thee hence. Shall setting day win day that will not set? Poor price wert thou to spend thyself for Christ, Had not His wealth thy poverty sufficed: Yet since He makes His garden of thy clod, Water thy lily, rose, or violet, And offer up thy sweetness unto God.

Time seems not short: If so I call to mind Its vast prerogative to loose or bind, And bear and strike amort All humankind.

Time seems not long: If I peer out and see Sphere within sphere, time in eternity, And hear the alternate song Cry endlessly.

Time greatly short, O time so briefly long, Yea, time sole battle-ground of right and wrong: Art thou a time for sport And for a song?

The half moon shows a face of plaintive sweetness Ready and poised to wax or wane; A fire of pale desire in incompleteness, Tending to pleasure or to pain:— Lo, while we gaze she rolleth on in fleetness To perfect loss or perfect gain.

Half bitterness we know, we know half sweetness; This world is all on wax, on wane: When shall completeness round time’s incompleteness, Fulfilling joy, fulfilling pain?— Lo, while we ask, life rolleth on in fleetness To finished loss or finished gain.

“As the Doves to their windows.”

They throng from the east and the west, The north and the south, with a song; To golden abodes of their rest They throng.

Eternity stretches out long: Time, brief at its worst or its best, Will quit them of ruin and wrong.

A rainbow aloft for their crest, A palm for their weakness made strong! As doves breast all winds to their nest, They throng.

Oh knell of a passing time, Will it never cease to chime? Oh stir of the tedious sea, Will it never cease to be? Yea, when night and when day, Moon and sun, pass away.

Surely the sun burns low, The moon makes ready to go, Broad ocean ripples to waste, Time is running in haste, Night is numbered, and day Numbered to pass away.

Time passeth away with its pleasure and pain, Its garlands of cypress and bay, With wealth and with want, with a balm and a bane, Time passeth away.

Eternity cometh to stay, Eternity stayeth to go not again; Eternity barring the way,

Arresting all courses of planet or main, Arresting who plan or who pray, Arresting creation: while grand in its wane Time passeth away.

“The Earth shall tremble at the Look of Him.”

Tremble, thou earth, at the Presence of the Lord Whose Will conceived thee and brought thee to the birth, Always, everywhere, thy Lord to be adored: Tremble, thou earth.

Wilt thou laugh time away in music and mirth? Time hath days of pestilence, hath days of a sword, Hath days of hunger and thirst in desolate dearth.

Till eternity wake up the multicord Thrilled harp of heaven, and breathe full its organ’s girth For joy of heaven and infinite reward, Tremble, thou earth.

Time lengthening, in the lengthening seemeth long: But ended Time will seem a little space, A little while from morn to evensong, A little while that ran a rapid race; A little while, when once Eternity Denies proportion to the other’s pace. Eternity to be and be and be, Ever beginning, never ending still, Still undiminished far as thought can see; Farther than thought can see, by dint of will Strung up and strained and shooting like a star Past utmost bound of everlasting hill: Eternity unswaddled, without bar, Finishing sequence in its awful sum; Eternity still rolling forth its car, Eternity still here and still to come.

“All flesh is Grass.”

So brief a life, and then an endless life Or endless death; So brief a life, then endless peace or strife: Whoso considereth How man but like a flower Or shoot of grass Blooms an hour, Well may sigh “Alas!”

So brief a life, and then an endless grief Or endless joy; So brief a life, then ruin or relief: What solace, what annoy Of Time needs dwelling on? It is, it was, It is done, While we sigh “Alas!”

Yet saints are singing in a happy hope Forecasting pleasure, Bright eyes of faith enlarging all their scope; Saints love beyond Time’s measure: Where love is, there is bliss That will not pass; Where love is, Dies away “Alas!”

Heaven’s chimes are slow, but sure to strike at last: Earth’s sands are slow, but surely dropping thro’: And much we have to suffer, much to do, Before the time be past.

Chimes that keep time are neither slow nor fast: Not many are the numbered sands nor few: A time to suffer, and a time to do, And then the time is past.

“There remaineth therefore a Rest to the people of God.”

Rest remains when all is done, Work and vigil, prayer and fast, All fulfilled from first to last, All the length of time gone past And eternity begun!

Fear and hope and chastening rod Urge us on the narrow way: Bear we now as best we may Heat and burden of to-day, Struggling, panting up to God.

Parting after parting, Sore loss and gnawing pain Meeting grows half a sorrow Because of parting again. When shall the day break That these things shall not be? When shall new earth be ours Without a sea, And time that is not time But eternity? To meet, worth living for; Worth dying for, to meet; To meet, worth parting for, Bitter forgot in sweet: To meet, worth parting before Never to part more.

“They put their trust in Thee, and were not confounded.”

I.

Together once, but never more While Time and Death run out their runs: Tho’ sundered now as shore from shore, Together once.

Nor rising suns, nor setting suns, Nor life renewed which springtide bore, Make one again Death’s sundered ones.

Eternity holds rest in store, Holds hope of long reunions: But holds it what they hungered for Together once?