The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning Volume I Part 16

_Zerah._ Hark, again!

Like a victor, speaks the slain.

_Angel Voices._ Finished be the trembling vain!

_Ador._ Upward, like a well-loved son, Looketh he, the orphaned one.

_Angel Voices._ Finished is the mystic pain.

_Voices of Fallen Angels._ His deathly forehead at the word, Gleameth like a seraph sword.

_Angel Voices._ Finished is the demon reign.

_Ador._ His breath, as living G.o.d, createth, His breath, as dying man, completeth.

_Angel Voices._ Finished work his hands sustain.

_The Earth._ In mine ancient sepulchres Where my kings and prophets freeze, Adam dead four thousand years, Unwakened by the universe's Everlasting moan, Aye his ghastly silence mocking-- Unwakened by his children's knocking At his old sepulchral stone, "Adam, Adam, all this curse is Thine and on us yet!"-- Unwakened by the ceaseless tears Wherewith they made his cerement wet, "Adam, must thy curse remain?"-- Starts with sudden life and hears Through the slow dripping of the caverned caves,--

_Angel Voices._ Finished is his bane.

_Voice from the Cross._ FATHER! MY SPIRIT TO THINE HANDS IS GIVEN.

_Ador._ Hear the wailing winds that be By wings of unclean spirits made!

They, in that last look, surveyed The love they lost in losing heaven, And pa.s.sionately flee With a desolate cry that cleaves The natural storms--though _they_ are lifting G.o.d's strong cedar-roots like leaves, And the earthquake and the thunder, Neither keeping either under, Roar and hurtle through the glooms-- And a few pale stars are drifting Past the dark, to disappear, What time, from the splitting tombs Gleamingly the dead arise, Viewing with their death-calmed eyes The elemental strategies, To witness, victory is the Lord's.

Hear the wail o' the spirits! hear!

_Zerah._ I hear alone the memory of his words.

EPILOGUE.

I.

My song is done.

My voice that long hath faltered shall be still.

The mystic darkness drops from Calvary's hill Into the common light of this day's sun.

II.

I see no more thy cross, O holy Slain!

I hear no more the horror and the coil Of the great world's turmoil Feeling thy countenance _too still_,--nor yell Of demons sweeping past it to their prison.

The skies that turned to darkness with thy pain Make now a summer's day; And on my changed ear that sabbath bell Records how CHRIST IS RISEN.

III.

And I--ah! what am I To counterfeit, with faculty earth-darkened, Seraphic brows of light And seraph language never used nor hearkened?

Ah me! what word that seraphs say, could come From mouth so used to sighs, so soon to lie Sighless, because then breathless, in the tomb?

IV.

Bright ministers of G.o.d and grace--of grace Because of G.o.d! whether ye bow adown In your own heaven, before the living face Of him who died and deathless wears the crown, Or whether at this hour ye haply are Anear, around me, hiding in the night Of this permitted ignorance your light, This feebleness to spare,-- Forgive me, that mine earthly heart should dare Shape images of unincarnate spirits And lay upon their burning lips a thought Cold with the weeping which mine earth inherits.

And though ye find in such hoa.r.s.e music, wrought To copy yours, a cadence all the while Of sin and sorrow--only pitying smile!

Ye know to pity, well.

V.

_I_ too may haply smile another day At the far recollection of this lay, When G.o.d may call me in your midst to dwell, To hear your most sweet music's miracle And see your wondrous faces. May it be!

For his remembered sake, the Slain on rood, Who rolled his earthly garment red in blood (Treading the wine-press) that the weak, like me, Before his heavenly throne should walk in white.

FOOTNOTE:

[D] "His angels he charged with folly."--_Job_ iv. 18.

PROMETHEUS BOUND

FROM THE GREEK OF aeSCHYLUS

_PERSONS._

PROMETHEUS.

OCEa.n.u.s.

HERMES.

HEPHaeSTUS.

IO, _daughter of_ Inachus.

STRENGTH _and_ FORCE.

_Chorus of Sea Nymphs._

PROMETHEUS BOUND

SCENE.--_STRENGTH and FORCE, HEPHaeSTUS and PROMETHEUS, at the Rocks._