Heav’n vex’d in heaven heard the World And all the grief thereof, and sent The angel Strength. Swift he unfurl’d His wings and flasht his sword and went: But still the cry of Earth rang to the firmament.
Then gentle Love, most loved in heaven, Heav’n sent to Earth. His large eyes shone, Upcast with glory from God given, And darkening downward from the Throne He fell: nor bated yet the far terrestrial moan.
Then all the host of heav’n, amazed, Cried, ‘Next let Wisdom go and prove Himself and conquer.’ But he raised His face and answer’d, ‘Heav’n above, Like them, alone I fail; send with me Strength and Love.’
Muse, in my boyhood’s careless days My rev’rence for thee was not small, Altho’ I roam’d by Star and Sea And left thee, seeking other ways— I left thee, for I knew that all Return by Sea and Star to thee.
Not worthy he to hear thy song, Him thou thyself despisest most, Who dares not leave thee and arise To face the World’s discordant throng; Since thou’rt best gain’d by being lost, And Earth is in thy Heav’nly eyes.
In Darkness, and pacing the Thunder-Beat Shore By many Waves, No sound being near to me there but the hoarse Cicala’s cry, While that unseen Sword, the Zodiacal Light, Falchion of Dawn, Made clear all the Orient, wanning the Silvery Stars,
I heard the fine flute of the Fast-Fading Fire, The Morning Star, Pipe thus to the Glimmering Glories of Night, And sing, O World, If I too must leave thee then who can remain? But lo! from the Deep The Thundering Sun upsprang and responded, I.
God gazing down from Heaven saw the World. Mighty, himself a heav’n, he fill’d the heavens. His beard fell like a wasted thunder at eve, And all his robe was woven with white stars, And on his breast a star.
The World was dark. Deep in a forest there, Where not the rill that routed in the wood Dared break the silence, nor one murmur of night Wound to the stagnant, chill, and listening air, Five children slumbering lay.
One ruddy as the red grapes of the south; One duskier, breather of more burning air; One blue-eyed, blond, and golden-crown’d with locks; One finely fashion’d in an even mould; And one hard wrought as steel.
Lord of the Woods their Sire; enormous, rough, Hair-tangled like the north-bear: but his Mate Queen of a myriad palaces that shone With chalcedon and jasper, justly wrought, And gems of jewel’d stone.