The Sun.
London, England, 1841-12-25 00:00:00

VOX PUSEYITICA.

God ! God ! God
Woe was the great Beginning
When man—prime image of thine own resplendence,
Grew dim by sinning:—
Woe when the rosy-windowed Skies
Wide open ever,
Closed-in their Festivals and Symphonies
Their Angels, and their Pearl-trees, and pure river:—
When man in his distress
And shame and nakedness,
Before the planet-blazoned Universe,
Bowed him beneath the curse.—

No—God, God, God !
Said only idiots so—
Fools who their own true grandeur could not know,
But deemed thy ways of wisdom, ways of woe.
Happy for me, and all earth's Adamites,
That Adam, and that I too with him, fell :
Had I been doomed to dwell
Amid those sparkling Paradisal bowers
Secure in blessedness unbreakable—
Fed like an Angel in the lap of light
On Eden's apples gold and lightning-bright,
And the sweet milk of the nectareous stars—
Had I down all Eternity's blue hours,
In the white bosom of some Eve uxorious
Unmasculined my powers,
I had been blessed, isangelized, and pure,
Had been beatified, and happy sure,
But sure inglorious !
111.
God! be thou therefore thanked,
That me thou didst create,
Not incorruptible, nor in a state
Full-fenced about with starry perfectness:—
But on the dark-floored platform of the world
Me from the womb has hurled
Arrayed in neither asphodel or light,
But—armoured darkly-bright
In only mortal powers,
Stauncher to struggle for immortal dowers—
The more to agonize with might and main,
My plumes, and crown, and purples to regain:—
And by deep fasts, and mightiness of prayer,
By spiritual throes and wrestlings rare,
Again to robe my limbs in flowing whiteness,
Again to tower with o'erpowering brightness,
Again to gird around my brow a more
Majestic splendour than it wore before.—
IV.
Therefore I thank thee, God—
Thank thee stupendously, and praise thee greatly,
That thou hast fashioned me,
In my desires and imaginations,
So very over-proud and passing stately :
That therefore thou has thronged
The skies and empyreans silver-songed,
The sanctuaries and kingdoms of the Heavens,
With such magnificently-made temptations
As should allure my Spirit to aspire,
And flame with irrepressible desire,
To seize alone.
The next grand-burning throne beside thy throne !
For no inferior stand,
Among in the angels in thy star-paved land :
No second place,
In the gold courts or provinces of space :
No drooping plume,
Or third-rate wreath of amaranthine bloom ;
No lowly Princedom or poor Satrapy
Will guerdon me.
V.
God, God, God!
Suffer me not to be
Approachable in degree
E'en by thy topmost Hierarchs, although
Their saffron-robes like gold about them flow !
Though Glory's sweet light swim
Around the brows of thy bright Cherubim
It were for me too dim I
Though thy tall Angels raise
Their palm-wreathed heads amid the sapphire blaze,
Their loftiness for me were still too low !
Past the great Seraph-Kings I, too, must go,
Though their blue eyes with diamond-waters shine,
And silver sceptres guide their steps divine !
Still higher—higher still,
My lofty stature must hereafter fill,
The jasper courts of thy everlasting dwelling:—
And mightier vigours nerve,
The radiant-arching curve.
Of Wings, from my immortal shoulders swelling.

VI.
God, God, all•gracious God
If these requests to me thou should'st deny
Uttermost darkness must be mine, and I
The second and eternal death shall die.
But no—as faith and burning love believe
—Too deeply trustful ever to deceive—
I shall hereafter full before thee live,
And shall be lion-voiced, and rainbow-crowned, '
In the grand heritanco thy grace shall give
Ruling all thrones and firmaments around !
Lord God. th 3 goodness and thy love, I know,
These on thy dying servant will bestow
0 rose-plumes of Archangel Gabriel's wing !
0 cloud-white crown of pearl round Raphael's hair !
0 Michael beautiful, and Uriel fair !
All the rich graces ye divide and share—
All the high majesties that round ye shine—
God will make also mine !

Whether the splendid doom fur which he yearned
That noble Spirit gained, I cannot say :
To mortal judgments it seemed fully earned
If love and holy lives with God have sway :
But this I know—from out the human Pit
—The Grave's abysmal and inglorious hole—
That, plume-uplifted, through the Infinite
Sprang from the flesh his fiery-soaring soul.
Rose his strong Spirit. Past the planets seven
I saw him mounting—saw the mighty dead
Winging the purple hollowness of heaven,
By fiery-armoured Seraphim upled
Troop after troop their sunlit legions filing--
Till Immortality—the proud high Queen—
Through her high veil of veils serenely smiling,
Oped her Majestic arms and clasped them in.
PRIEZ POUR CELUI QUI L'ECRIVIT.