And so, the blessed angels might come down
And walk with thee as erst,-I think they would,—-
Because I was not near to make them sad,
Or soil the rustling of their innocence.
Adam. They know me.
If last in the transgression.
I am deepest in the guilt,
Who gave the right and joyaunce of the world
Both unto thee and me,-gave thee to me,
The best gift last; the last sin was the worst,
Which sinned against more complement of gifts
And grace of giving. God! I render back
Strong benediction and perpetual praise
From mortal feeble lips (as incense-smoke,
Out of a little censer, may fill Heaven),
That Thou, in striking my benumbed hands,
And forcing them to drop all other boons
Of beauty, and dominion, and delight,—
Hast left this well-beloved Eve-this life
Within life-this best gift between their palms,
In gracious compensation !
Or some saluting angel's-calling home
I, standing here between the glory and the dark,—
The glory of Thy wrath projected forth
From Eden's wall; the dark of our distress,
Which settles a step off in that drear world-
Lift up to Thee the hands from whence hath fallen
Only creation's sceptre,-thanking Thee
That rather Thou hast cast me out with her,
Than left me lorn of her in Paradise ;-
With angel looks and angel songs around,
To show the absence of her eyes and voice,
And make society full desertness,
Without the uses of her comforting.
Eve. Or is it but a dream of thee, that speaks Mine own love's tongue?
Because with her, I stand
Upright, as far as can be in this fall,
And look away from Heaven, which doth accuse me,
And look away from earth, which doth convict me,
Into her face; and crown my discrowned brow
Out of her love; and put the thought of her
Around me, for an Eden full of birds,
And lift her body up-thus-to my heart;
And with my lips upon her lips,—thus, thus,-
Do quicken and sublimate my mortal breath,
Which cannot climb against the grave's steep sides,
But overtops this grief!
My eyes grow with the light which is in thine;
The silence of my heart is full of sound.
Hold me up-so! Because I comprehend
This human love, I shall not be afraid
Of any human death; and yet because
I know this strength of love, I seem to know
Death's strength, by that same sign.
To shut the door close on my rising soul,-
Lest it pass outwards in astonishment,
And leave thee lonely.
Bent heavily on thyself across mine arm,
Thy face flat to the sky.
Eve.
Running, as it might seem, my life from me;
They run so fast and warm. Let me lie so,
And weep so, as if in a dream or prayer,-
Unfastening, clasp by clasp, the hard, tight thought
Which clipped my heart, and showed me evermore
Loathed of thy justice as I loathe the snake,
And as the pure ones loathe our sin. To-day,
All day, beloved, as we fled across
This desolating radiance, cast by swords
Not suns, my lips prayed soundless to myself,
Rocking against each other-O Lord God!
('Twas so I prayed,) I ask Thee by my sin,
And by Thy curse, and by Thy blameless heavens,
Make dreadful haste to hide me from Thy face,
And from the face of my beloved here,
For whom I am no helpmeet, quick away
Into the new dark mystery of death!
I will lie still there; I will make no plaint;
I will not sigh, nor sob, nor speak a word,---
Nor struggle to come back beneath the sun,
Where peradventure I might sin anew
Against Thy mercy and his pleasure. Death,
O death, whate'er it be, is good enough
For such as I.-For Adam-there's no voice,
Shall ever say again, in Heaven or earth,
It is not good for him to be alone.
Adam. And was it good for such a prayer to pass, My unkind Eve, betwixt our mutual lives?
If I am exiled, must I be bereaved?
Eve. 'Twas an ill prayer: it shall be prayed no more; And God did use it for a foolishness,
Giving no answer. Now my heart has grown
Too high and strong for such a foolish prayer:
Love makes it strong and since I was the first
In the transgression, with a steady foot
I will be first to tread from this sword-glare
Into the outer darkness of the waste,-
And thus I do it.
As erewhile in the sin.-What sounds! what sounds!
I feel a music which comes slant from Heaven,
As tender as a watering dew.
Eve.
I think
That angels-not those guarding Paradise,---
But the love-angels who came erst to us,
And when we said "GOD," fainted unawares
Back from our mortal presence unto God,
(As if He drew them inward in a breath,)
His name being heard of them,-I think that they
With sliding voices lean from heavenly towers,
Invisible, but gracious. Hark-how soft!
CHORUS OF INVISIBLE ANGELS.
Faint and tender.
Mortal man and woman,
Go upon your travel!
Heaven assist the Human
Smoothly to unravel
All that web of pain
Wherein ye are holden.
Do ye know our voices
Chanting down the Golden ?
Do ye guess our choice is,
Being unbeholden,
To be harkened by you, yet again ?
This pure door of opal,
God hath shut between us,-
Us, His shining people,
You, who once have seen us,
And are blinded new!
Yet, across the doorway,
Past the silence reaching,
Farewells evermore may,
Blessing in the teaching,
Glide from us to you.
First semichorus.
Think how erst your Eden,
Day on day succeeding,
With our presence glowed.
We came as if the Heavens were bowed
To a milder music rare!
Ye saw us in our solemn treading,
Treading down the steps of cloud;
While our wings, outspreading
Double calms of whiteness,
Dropped superfluous brightness
Down from stair to stair.
Second semichorus.
Or, abrupt though tender,
While ye gazed on space,
We flashed our angel-splendour
In either human face!
With mystic lilies in our hands,—
From the atmospheric bands,
Breaking, with a sudden grace,
We took you unaware!
While our feet struck glories
Outward, smooth and fair,
Which we stood on floorwise,
Platformed in mid air.
First semichorus.
Oft, when Heaven-descended,
Shut up in a secret light
Stood we speechless in your sight,
In a mute apocalypse;
With dumb vibrations on our lips,
From hosannas ended;
And grand half-vanishings
Of the foregone things,
Within our eyes, belated:
Till the heavenly Infinite
Falling off from our Created,
Left our inward contemplation
Opening into ministration.
Then in odes of burning,
Brake we suddenly,
And sang out the morning
Broadly up the sky.—
Or we drew
Our music through
The noontide's hush and heat and shine,
And taught them our intense Divine-
With our vital fiery notes
All disparted hither, thither,
Trembling out into the æther,--
Sensible like beamy motes!-
Or, as twilight drifted
Through the cedar masses,
The globed sun we lifted,
Trailing purple, trailing gold
Out between the passes
Of the mountains manifold,
To anthems slowly sung!
While he, aweary and in swoon,
For joy to hear our climbing tune
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