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THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
The 
 Divine Processional 
 
 By 
 
 Denis Wortman, D. D. 
 
 Author of 
 "Reliques of the Christ " 
 
 New York Chicago Toronto 
 
 Fleming H. Revell Company 
 
 London and Edinburgh 
 
Copyright, 1903, by 
 FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 
 
 ( November) 
 
 CLARg^VXn No 
 
 conr 8. 
 
 r 
 
 
 ,<}£. 
 
 New York: 158 Fifth Avenue 
 Chicago: 63 Washington Street 
 Toronto: 27 Richmond Street, W 
 London: 21 Paternoster Square 
 Edinburgh: 30 St. Mary Street 
 
With a Father's Blessing on his Sons 
 
 DENTS WOR TMAN, JR. 
 
 and 
 
 ELBERT B. MONROE WORTMAN, 
 
 May the Author Dedicate to all Hearty Lovers of 
 
 God and His World 
 
 this Sympathetic Attempt at 
 
 Spiritual Interpretation 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 • 
 
 THE generous favor with which his 
 " Reliques of the Christ " was received 
 by the press and the public in 1888, 
 and in subsequent editions, has encouraged the 
 author to the completion of this undertaking. 
 It differs from the " Reliques " in motif and 
 form. "While he trusts it may minister quite 
 as much to the spiritual life, it attempts a 
 wider task. The former assumed the spiritual 
 attitude of the reader, and without argument 
 sought to interpret and develop that which is 
 richest in personal experience and hope. It 
 naturally cast itself into the form and fervor, 
 so far as might be, of the mystical medieval 
 rhapsody; the whole being, however (if, so 
 kind an acknowledgment by one of many 
 journals may be allowed insertion here), " fused 
 with elements distinctively modern, and a vis- 
 ible ministry of the discoveries of science to 
 the meditative ardor of faith." 
 
 The present poem is a bolder hazard. The 
 author believes that the age with all its enthu- 
 siasms in scientific and religious inquiry de- 
 5 
 
6 INTRODUCTION 
 
 raands a certain religious treatment of the 
 modern knowledges and a certain scientific 
 treatment of the best religious thought and 
 passion ; not in the cold statement of fact and 
 reason, but such a s^niipathetic interpretation 
 of them as can perhaps only be through ideal- 
 istic visioning and harmonics. Happy shall he 
 be, when another, better equipped, shall under- 
 take the work and realize the ideal, and help 
 men to the larger comprehensions of truth, so 
 those who behold the outer and those who be- 
 hold the inner creations, the one of form, the 
 other of spirit, shall see eye to eye, and with 
 the voice together sing. 
 
 This undertaking would therefore be an ar- 
 gument without the argumentative form, and 
 by all means without that disputativeness 
 which such implies. It would be a vision to 
 such as may see, a voice to such as may 
 hear, a song for such as would sing. It would 
 modesth'^ attempt Interpretation ; an interpre- 
 tation of nature through a spiritual visioning, 
 and of religion through those great theologies 
 God has deposited in nature and human his- 
 tory. It means to be intrinsically optimistic. 
 No one who believes in the unit}'^ of the God- 
 head has any right to believe other than in the 
 perpetual unfolding of His plans, and the undi- 
 verted, eternal Coming of His Kingdom. 
 
 True, there be advances, and then apparent 
 
INTRODUCTION 7 
 
 retrogressions; only, however, to promote a 
 more general spiritual progress ; better than a 
 mere survival of the fittest ; an inevitable mul- 
 tiplying and improvement of the fittest. Over 
 and over we witness such in history. But, 
 withal the declensions, there is advance ; cycles 
 prepare the way for cycles ; each is type and 
 prophet of the other. From the first, reformers 
 have seemed to themselves to be starting out 
 from a very beginning ; but with all the human 
 ebbs the divine tide has been rising. If in 
 reading this poem one shall deem himself Hear- 
 ing the end, but shall find himself starting 
 from a new point of departure, it is ardently 
 hoped he will not be discouraged. He will 
 please remind himself that this is an essential 
 parallel to that succession of progressions we 
 all must note in history herself ; and further 
 on he may discover that there has been a gen- 
 eral and logical convergence of all the paths of 
 thought towards the supreme conclusion : 
 " Thine, O Lord, is the greatness and - the 
 power and the glory and the victory, and the 
 majesty ; all that is in the heaven and in the 
 earth is Thine, O Lord, and Thou art exalted 
 as Head over All ! " 
 
 If in this undertaking the author shall have 
 at all effectively illustrated the theories of his 
 early life that Christianity presents the no- 
 blest themes for the poet, and that Nature is 
 
8 INTRODUCTION 
 
 fuller of worthy poetic suggestion than the 
 myths of barbaric ages, or the daring conceits 
 of romantic civilizations; if, in the humble but 
 sincere endeavor to give to Science a kindlier 
 interpretation of Faith, and to Faith a more 
 affectionate interpretation of Science, he shall 
 have helped timid believers out of distrusts, 
 and fine lovers of Nature to a more confident 
 acceptance of religious thought ; if he shall to 
 any degree have shewn the Creator to be more 
 personal Lover of both the physical and spir- 
 itual worlds, and thus shall have aided any to 
 a readier faith in Him ; if he shall have at all 
 succeeded in illustrating the supernatural as 
 truly natural and the natural as divine; 
 if he shall have contributed his mite in 
 lifting religion above mere creeds and forms 
 on the one hand, and above rationalism and 
 iconoclasm on the other ; if he shall have 
 helped to show to such as hold to the divine 
 Immanence how it may involve the Incarna- 
 tion, and to such as hold to the Incarnation 
 how that great historic fact authenticates 
 God's holy Immanence ; if he shall have broad- 
 ened faith and given doubt a kindlier bent to- 
 wards spiritual trust; if, indeed, he may in 
 some least degree have assisted in shewing 
 forth the majestic grace of Him that filleth all 
 in all, to whom be praise forever and ever ! — 
 then shall he feel that the intense and grate- 
 
INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 ful labors of spare hours among the pastoral 
 responsibilities of years shall have been di- 
 vinely blessed ! It were vain to say he had no 
 hope for a fair measure of success ; else wise 
 it had been an unjustifiable adventure. Of its 
 difficulties and of his failings, perhaps in many 
 points, none can be better aware than the 
 writer. But he would cordially invite his 
 readers through regions of Christian specula- 
 tion and faith, some old, some new, by what 
 appears to him at least a largely untraversed 
 way. 
 
 Perhaps a word may be allowed in regard 
 to the introduction of the Yoice of the Divine 
 Father, in the mystic scene which suggested 
 the title of The Wonder- Cross^ — Immanence,^^^ 
 at first, as the title to the book ; a title which 
 gave wdij to that of The Divine Proces- 
 sional, as suggestive of the trend and pur- 
 pose of the whole work. To hear the Father 
 speak, appeared the only way to represent 
 the incarnation and atonement from the Di- 
 vine standpoint. "We have been in the bad 
 habit of overlooking the Father's interest in 
 the redemptive work. Our praise and pray- 
 ing would seem to indicate that in shewing 
 forth His mercy. He were going against His 
 own nature ; as though He needed placating ; 
 as though He did not love us but wanted to, 
 and so let His Beloved die on the Cross, that 
 
to INTRODUCTION 
 
 He might overcome legal obstacles and scru- 
 ples, and love us and forgive ! We seem some- 
 times to forget that God so loved the world 
 that He gave His only-begotten Son ! There- 
 fore, here we would have Himself speak out 
 His own gracious heart; however brokenly and 
 erringly we may interpret it into our human 
 speech. The poem, therefore, would venture 
 reverentl}'^ to place us in the attitude of listen- 
 ing to His Voice, and gathering therefrom 
 some conception of what He is pleased to plan. 
 In the sublime tragedy of Earth, Nature suf- 
 fers, and Man, and the great Son of Man, in 
 all which the Almighty has His ineffable sym- 
 pathies ; while through the great birth-pangs 
 of the World, Mankind is being born into the 
 Kingdom of Heaven! It is trusted that this 
 difficult task at interpretation is treated at 
 least with reverence and dignity. 
 
 The various songs and choruses will break 
 the monotony of blank verse and permit di- 
 gressions in praise which could not have been 
 properly allowed in the logical conduct of the 
 argument itself ; and may be considered as ex- 
 pressing the thoughts and emotions, either of 
 the other-world Visitors, or of Nature, or of 
 us who guide the Visitors about the earth, or 
 of the Reader ; just as shall strike the reader's 
 mood. All music, all poetry, all prophecy, 
 all art, interprets itself to the spiritual con- 
 
INTRODUCTION ii 
 
 sciousness and temperament of the individual 
 soul. 
 
 Now unto the King, Eternal, Immortal, In- 
 visible, the Only Wise God, be Glory and 
 Power, Forever. Amen ! 
 
 Denis Wortman. 
 
 Hyde Park, 
 
 East Orange, N. J. 
 
CANTOS 
 
 I. ARRIVAL OF STAR-BORN VISITORS, AND 
 
 THEIR DISAPPOINTING SEARCHES 
 THROUGH THE EARTH, UNTIL, 
 
 II. THEY, STARTLED, DISCOVER GETH- 
 
 SEMANE AND THE MYSTIC WONDER- 
 CROSS; WHERE 
 
 III. THEY AND WE SEE NATURE, LAMENTING 
 
 STILL HER DEAD SON AND LORD: HER 
 DESPAIRS AND HOPES. 
 
 IV. THEY, ENDOWED WITH SUPERNATURAL 
 
 SENSE, COMFORT HER AND US WITH 
 SOME OF THE DEEPER INTENTIONS OF 
 THE CROSS. 
 
 V. THE VOICE OF THE FATHER UTTERS HIS 
 
 DIVINE PASSION IN THE PASSION OF HIS 
 SON, BUT GLORIES WITH HIM IN -HIS 
 VICTORIES THROUGH LOVE. 
 
 VL JUSTICE JUSTIFIED. 
 
 VII. EARTH'S BIRTH-PANGS BUT PRESAGE HER 
 
 MOTHER-JOY. 
 
 VIII. LET EVIL THREATEN GOOD! 
 
 IX. IMMANENCE IN NATURE PRESSES TOWARDS 
 
 IMMANENCE IN MAN. 
 
 '3 
 
14 CJNTOS 
 
 X. NATURE MORE AND MORE ALIVE WITH 
 
 GOD, CULMINATING IN THE ALL PENE- 
 TRATIVE CHRIST-LIFE, 
 
 XI. WHOSE INFINITE INTERBLENDINGS ARE 
 COMPREHENDED ONLY THROUGH THE 
 VISIONINGS OF LOVE. 
 
 XII. ONLY LOVE UNDERSTANDS LOVE AND 
 
 LIFE; INTERPRETING NATURE AND 
 SUPERNATURAL AS ONE. 
 
 XIII. INTERSPHERES OF MATTER, LIFE, GOD 
 
 XIV. THE INTENSIVE DIVINE IMMANENCE. 
 
 XV. COMETH MAN; COMETH THE SON OF 
 
 MAN, 
 
 XVI. TO OVERCOME; 
 
 XVII. AND TO GIVE LIFE MORE ABUNDANTLY. 
 
 XVin. REDEMPTION OF RELIGIONS AND NA- 
 TIONS. 
 
 XIX. LIFE'S MYSTIC OCEAN WITH HER MYSTIC 
 
 SHIPS. 
 
 XX. THE SEVEN ^ONIC PROPHECIES FUL- 
 
 FILLED, AND THE LORD IS COME. 
 
 XXI. CATHEDRAL OF ALL SAINTS, BUILDED OF 
 
 ALL MANNERS OF STONES PRECIOUS 
 TO GOD. 
 
 XXII. THE LIFE WAS THE LIGHT OF MEN. 
 
 XXIII. CORRELATION OF SPIRITUAL FORCES. 
 
CANTOS 15 
 
 XXIV. "IN HOC SIGNO VINCES." 
 
 XXV. MIGHT HE HAVE HEARD 1 MIGHT HE 
 
 HAVE SEEN! 
 
 XXVI. NOW, LO, COMETH HE, TO BE KING OF 
 
 KINGS. 
 
 XXVII. WHAT GOD IS GOD FOR. 
 
 XXVIII. LET EVERY GATE SWING OPEN TO THE 
 
 KING! 
 
 XXIX. LOVE GOES A-GOSPELLING ; AND EARTH. 
 
 FILLED WITH HER LIFE, TURNS OUT 
 TO BE THE HOLY GRAIL WHEREFROM 
 WORLDS THIRSTING DRINK. 
 
SONGS 
 
 MOTIF. THE ADVANCING SONG, (A) 19 
 
 WHAT AILETH THEE, POOR TROUBLED EARTH ? 41 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CROSS 56 
 
 SILENT BE OUR WORSHIP NOW 62 
 
 THE CRY OF THE CROSS 72 
 
 THEN, FACE TO FACE ! Ill 
 
 LOVE'S RESTFUL YOKE, (A) 113 
 
 SELF-FORGIVENESS I2I 
 
 LORD GOD ! ART THOU NOT WEARY OF THY 
 
 YEARS? 125 
 
 THE GOD-DWELT BREAST 132 
 
 MORE GOD! MORE GOD! (A) 133 
 
 PRAYER TO THE INDWELLING GOD 134 
 
 THE ORGAN, (c) 137 
 
 THE BETHLEHEM IDYLL, (B) 145 
 
 THE SPIRIT'S OUTING 160 
 
 THE ETERNAL CANA MIRACLE 1^0 
 
 THE CRY OF THE VOID 164 
 
 SHIELD FINDS THE ARROW THAT MISSES THE 
 
 AIMED-AT SHIELD 170 
 
 NOW SHALL THE KINGDOMS OF THE WORLD 
 
 BECOME 172 
 
 BLOOM ON, YE DESERTS ! 174 
 
 NOT LESS LOV'ST THOU THE SILVER SHAFTS 
 
 OF DAWN 178 
 
 O DREAD SIROCCOS ! 184 
 
 17 
 
1 8 SONGS 
 
 SEVEN LOGIA OF JESUS i86 
 
 LO, HOW DEAD RUINS OF THE PAST BE 
 
 BUILDED .... 187 
 
 AY, WHAT IS LIFE, BUT ONE MAJESTIC SEA? . . 191 
 
 VISIONS AND VOICES OF GOD, (a) 193 
 
 HINTS OF A SABBATH 195 
 
 DEDICATION OF A CHURCH, (c) 208 
 
 LAYING OF A CORNER-STONE, (c) 211 
 
 O WORLDLY WORLD, WILT HAVE QUAINT 
 
 TASK? 215 
 
 NOW TO THY BLEST BAPTISMAL WATERS 
 
 HASTE 216 
 
 ALL THY WORKS DO PRAISE THEE, LORD! . . 224 
 THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE CITY BY THE SEA . . 329 
 THE WORLD FERMENTS TO BURSTING WITH 
 
 NEW MOUNTAINS 232 
 
 THE TRANSVERSE BEAMS OF THE CROSS . . . 232 
 LAMENT, AND TRIUMPH AT THE CROSS, (O 
 
 POOR, TIRED, WOUNDED FEET ! ) 235 
 
 JESU! FAIR CHILD OF GOD AND MAN ! 247 
 
 WITH WRATH IN MERCY AND MERCY IN 
 
 WRATH 258 
 
 STARS ON THE WATCH-TOWERS OF INFINITE 
 
 HEIGHT! 274 
 
 (The Author acknowledges his indebtedness to T/ie Independent, for 
 permission to reprint his poems marked "A," Harper's Bazaar for " B," 
 The Christian Intelligencer and Mail and Express for "C." The 
 Others now make their first appearance in print.) 
 
MO TIF 
 
 Adown the sounding ages from afar 
 Sweep solemn storms of larum and of joy, 
 
 Cries of hurt childhood, and the roar of war, 
 Loud shouts of powers that rescue, or destroy. 
 
 At first amidst the multitudinous din 
 
 Breathes the sweet promise of the Peace to come ; 
 And then o'er Bethlehem's hills Angels begin 
 
 The song that sings in Christ and Christendom. 
 
 Then, as a mother to the organ grand 
 
 On whose responsive keys her youngling plays, 
 
 Pleased listens for song-fragments the dear hand 
 Feels for, and finding, then new chords essays ; 
 
 So, not sore fretted is the Holy One 
 At the poor efforts of Earth's infancy, 
 
 But smiles o'er many a lute and lyre undone 
 If her taste take to love and minstrelsy. 
 
 O, dear to Him those strains of earlier Earth 
 That timid crept among the discords dire, 
 
 And wooed the world to songs of reverent mirth, 
 Of helpful hope and eminent desire ! 
 
 But, ever and anon, almost unheard 
 
 Among the Babel cries of wrath and pride, 
 
 Paeans of peace, while oft have strangely erred 
 They who the chosen choirs of God should guide. 
 
 19 
 
20 MOTIF 
 
 O, sad the thought, how God's own nohle souls 
 Lift psalms of joy that be well nigh akin, — 
 
 Yet, pitched at different keys, harsh discord rolls 
 Through all, entangling very praise in sin ! 
 
 Yet ever down the years more freely flow 
 The stronger strains of widening melody. 
 
 While the rude Discords now less stridulous grow, 
 And watch God tune His worlds to harmony ! 
 
 He year by year the broken reeds doth mend, 
 And holily new instruments invent ; 
 
 So creeds and deeds and peoples without end 
 Bring psalms that savor of a sacrament. 
 
 AH Ages add musicians to His Choir, 
 All loving Faiths find some mellifluous lays, 
 
 No Wrong but with new zeal sets Love afire, 
 No Soul but pays some tribute to the Praise. 
 
 God is Himself eternal Harmony, 
 
 Heaven and the Earth His mighty symphonies ! 
 Earth's Anvil-Chorus blends in euphony 
 
 With Hallelujah-Chorus of the skies ! 
 
THEY came from far, from reverend 
 majesties 
 Of height where in the Empyrean, 
 God, 
 As the Ancients had it, stored th' essential 
 
 fire ; 
 Those heights where suns unseen by human 
 
 eye 
 Through space their even pace in peace 
 
 pursue ; 
 Beyond, beyond Arcturus' golden crown, 
 Vega, Altair, sapphire and diamond-veined, 
 Capella, Sirius, in white robes of state, 
 Lusty Orion of star-jewelled girdle ; 
 Those spheres so distant even swift-winged 
 
 Light 
 Well-nigh forgets her birthplace ere she rests. 
 
 They had wrought well their work, and at its 
 
 close 
 Ere to some nobler life they should be lift, 
 Permit was given of God long time to range 
 Among the orbs that lie, fair Isles of Light, 
 
 21 
 
22 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 On the dark bosom of Night's boundless sea. 
 Fleet wings should bear them whither they 
 might please. 
 
 " Perchance," their fellows said, " Perchance," 
 
 they dreamed, 
 " Ah, what, if somewhere in their pilgrimage 
 They might stumble upon the vagrant star. 
 The star so dark — so bright, so bright — so 
 
 dark, 
 Where the Light of the World went out, and 
 
 then the more 
 Illustriously shone ! " " Nay, dreams be 
 
 dreams ! 
 When ye and we and dwellers from all worlds 
 Shall in the Central Heavens meet, there we'll 
 Compare notes round, and learn the Story 
 
 straight." 
 Whereat with sweet " Adieus " forth ward they 
 
 fared. 
 
 Far had they journeyed, much had heard and 
 
 seen ; 
 Wonders succeeding wonders ; the great stars 
 Of God as wide apart in glory and use 
 As in the lonely distances between ; 
 Had visited where worlds most numerous 
 
 d well, 
 Close clustering to hear respondent song; 
 Had lingered there to catch the glad refrain, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 23 
 
 And thence had bounded on where seemed the 
 
 edge 
 Of Cosmos, hopeful shout to throw far out 
 Be3'ond to cheer some orb that, overbrave, 
 Had wandered off into the wild weird waste ; 
 And, lo, no edge of worlds, no voiceless void, 
 But, ever on, God's populous Cosmos still ; 
 Infinite Sphere with Centre everywhere ! 
 Long now their absence, soon the hour at hand 
 When they must turn new-homeward past the 
 
 stars 
 That touch and thrill us with their pulsing 
 
 beams. 
 
 Their course lay near our Sun, and fair it 
 
 seemed 
 To see what on our little globe might thrive 
 Of sweetness, or of beauty, or of use 
 Superior spheres might not deem worth their 
 
 while : 
 As when the traveler, with the city's pride 
 Aweary, longs to rest among the soft 
 And soothing shadows, and the chirp of birds, 
 The conjuring myriad muteness of the wold. 
 And bless the blushing ministries of flowers. 
 
 They came in very human guise and dress ; 
 The vision of them scared men not outright ; 
 And learning their desire to view what might 
 Prove new to them, or grand, or excellent, 
 
24 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Proud of such guests and of our goodl}^ world, 
 We ventured their companions to become. 
 Alas, provincial World, provincial Men, 
 Provincial Science ! Ah, thou puny Earth, 
 What canst thou show to star-born visitors ? 
 What new to such as through God's firmament 
 Of amplitudinous length and breadth have 
 searched ? 
 
 We toiled adventurous toward the mountain's 
 
 crown. 
 Along its jagged sides peered down its deep 
 Abysms of silences, and then afar 
 Upon the fertile plains; then onward pressed 
 Till on the smoking su*mmit awed we stood. 
 The mad volcano, lifting high his head, 
 Storming and breathing fire, and thundering, 
 Seemed like some giant of enormous mould. 
 Hot with his rage, his huge trunk writhing 
 
 hard 
 With groans and oaths and wrestlings fierce 
 To get him free, shaking the continents ! 
 
 Then said the Strangers, not contemptuously, 
 But mindful of the grandeur of the scene : 
 " O Men, yon little ball the Master lights 
 And for your night's illumining hangs serene 
 Upon your starry ceiling there, yon Moon 
 Hath heights of mountain that dwarf these to 
 hills; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 25 
 
 And caverns where, if the avenging mount 
 That rained deep burial on Pompeian art 
 And sin, some mighty Alp exacting death 
 From such as touch his crown, lone Fugisan 
 Whose Lotus head salutes not slumbrously 
 The far, fast rising sun, or th' dazzling domes 
 Of Asia's mountains fit for vast empires 
 And ancient faiths ; if these were in affright 
 To haste and hide from some avenger, they 
 Might find in lunar depths secure retreat, 
 "Well buried out of sight from savage search ! 
 
 " And these steep precipices ; once stood we 
 On those mysterious rings that strongly gird 
 Yon planet named for Jove's great sire (such 
 
 crown 
 Nor any of his children wore!) on th' edge 
 Of those grand fire-born fillets have we stood, 
 Where myriad play-worlds dance their merry 
 
 round. 
 Nor fear the frown of Saturn's mighty eye ; 
 And gazed adown depths underlying depths, 
 (Tenebrious light from many mingling moons !) 
 Adown abysses more, till far beneath 
 The awful heights as more than round this 
 
 Earth 
 And then around once more, so many leagues 
 Below lay Saturn's boundless surfaces ; 
 One would as soon leap off the high-noon Sun 
 As down that planetary precipice ! " 
 
26 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 Then to thy solemn splendors, lo, we come, 
 Niagara, whom mighty lakes attend ! 
 These pausing on thy heights libations pour 
 In honor of the river-god, who thence, 
 Now with a wild storm-joy, now calralier, 
 But ever with his full majestic might 
 Shall bear them onward to the waiting sea ; 
 Libations, O Niagara, such as 
 Ne'er e'en immortal lavished or received 
 Beneath Olympus' ancient hallowed height; 
 River of one eternal flow and flame, 
 River of ceaseless whirling depths of gems 
 All raolte/i together, amethyst and pearl, 
 Rare agates, tourmalines and chrysolite, 
 And rubies blushing that they be so fair, 
 And diamonds playing they be elfin stars. 
 Bright sapphires like lost fragments of the sky ; 
 All to a magic fate obedient ; 
 Now solvent in the flowing emerald, 
 Clouded and argent, iridescent, gold, 
 (As 'twere where God got all His jewels from. 
 Or made, or stored them for great worlds !) 
 River so over-full of glory there e'er rests 
 Upon the reverend rising incense-cloud 
 A bow of sevenfold splendors, such as God 
 Is used to hang over His bending sky ! 
 Meanwhile from out the awful altar depths 
 There swell such thunder-tones of psalm as 
 
 seem 
 Some noble jubilate of the globe ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 27 
 
 Before thee, O Niagara, these from far 
 Long stood in reverent admiration mute ; 
 Awed by thy majesty, thy mighty praise, 
 Thy power, they speechless stood. Then did 
 
 we see 
 Them looking up afar, and we did hear 
 Them to each other hint of what long time 
 Ago had come to them as rumf5¥>*strange 
 Of glories in the far, far heights beyond 
 The stars. 
 
 Surprised into surprising speech, 
 At last, cried they : 
 
 " Lo, triumphing echoes these 
 Of the voice of a great multitude, the voice 
 Of many waters ; thunderings of joy — 
 The joy of harpers harping with their harps. 
 And chanting their new song before the throne ! 
 Surely these be faint echoes of that praise, 
 And in these waters we but see the dim 
 Keflections of the upper glory, where 
 Dazzle in brightness all ineffable 
 The golden pavement and the gates of pearl, 
 The walls of jasper and chalcedony. 
 Of topaz, sardonyx, and amethyst ; 
 Fair as a bride that for the bridegroom waits 1 
 Lo, too, the Rainbow round the Throne of 
 God ! " 
 
 With throbbing heart thence to the rocky shore 
 Where restless Ocean seeks to pass her bounds, 
 
28 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 We journeyed. Sportive played the sea, as 
 
 when 
 A lioness well-fed frisks with her young. 
 So while the strong sea lapped and kissed the 
 
 sands, 
 Upon her breasts the frolicsome waves did 
 
 play 
 In roguish tumbling and diverting chase. 
 Now fierce as starved lioness for prey, 
 Put hard at bay by howling, hounding winds ; 
 With terrible glare and roar she leaps the 
 
 rocks 
 Appalled ; leaps wildly back into the main 
 And swallows ravenously the venturous craft. 
 Ah, pity, now, for such as meet her rage ! 
 
 Calmly the star-born visitors beheld, 
 Pleased with the sea's immensity and power, 
 The splendor of her storms, her crystal calm, 
 Her gentle undertone of solemn praise. 
 Her winds' wild terror, her waves' thunderous 
 
 bass ; 
 What mad, mad music when the mad sea 
 
 tries ! 
 Day by sweet day some gentle symphony, 
 'Twould lull to sleep the shepherds and their 
 
 flocks ; 
 Next, merrier music o'er the rolling plain 
 Where dance the bright waves as to nature's 
 
 waltz ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 29 
 
 Now slow pours by a deep and holy psalm 
 Angels would listen to with pleased ear ; 
 This turning to a solemn march as though 
 A triumphing hero with his troop were come ; 
 Now distant thunders boom and roar and near ; 
 Now 'tis as though all instruments of sound 
 Did energetic strike and breathe, — lyre, lute. 
 Hautboy and bugle, drum and fife and horn, 
 Trumpet and cornet, organ, cymbal, harp ; 
 As though through these the winds breathed 
 
 angry joy. 
 As though on those the waves did mightily 
 
 drum, 
 "While right and left lightning loud beat the 
 
 time ! 
 'Twere worth their while for gods to pause 
 
 and hear ! 
 
 Well pleased our guests with all they saw and 
 
 heard ; 
 Then pointing toward the Sun, with pensive 
 
 gaze 
 They looked on their companions by the sea ; 
 Nor envy moved us, only wonder grave, 
 As spake they : 
 
 " Yon fair globe but rolls in fire ; 
 It hath but one perpetual gulf from pole 
 To pole, from east to its extremest west, 
 And from hot centre out upon the plain ; 
 
30 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 A very endless torment of huge flame ; 
 Fire-waves that speeded by the seething blasts 
 Drive like old Neptune's steeds across the 
 
 seas, 
 And leap in quenchless pain high in the sky 
 As yonder moon hangs far above your heads. 
 Tempests there rage to which these storms are 
 
 calms, 
 Wherein your Earth would scarce survive a 
 
 day ! " 
 
 "We shuddered as they spake ; the groaning 
 
 ground 
 We stamped, to learn if all were firm and safe ; 
 Then wondered whether our guests by some 
 
 mishap 
 Had not in mind those regions of the lost. 
 Where he of Florence, her exile and her pride. 
 Was by the shade of gentle Virgil led, 
 Through dolorous wails and hot Tartarean 
 
 fires. 
 They caught our wondering, and quick re- 
 plied : 
 
 "Not Hell, but Heaven's heat glows in yon 
 
 Sun, 
 His radiant beams warm grateful distant 
 
 spheres. 
 And to what zones they willing turn towards 
 
 him 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 31 
 He grants the laughing spring and summer 
 
 joy; 
 
 To such as else had slept in changeless night 
 He gives the day enriched by fruitful toil ; 
 No wonder planets move their smiling cheeks 
 Toward him for morning kiss; and by him 
 
 drawn 
 Never from his attractions turn in scorn, 
 But in his wide embraces glow and sing ! " 
 
 Thus on from scene to scene ; nor angry they, 
 Nor we, that all so plain and meagre seemed ; 
 Nay, God be praised His works so wondrous 
 
 here 
 Be thus o'ermatched by grander glories there ! 
 Still, sorrowful we for such long luckless 
 
 search, 
 And tearful they that we were grieved. Yet 
 
 forth 
 To cranching icebergs in the north we passed, 
 "Where Nature vainly travails to the birth. 
 Whence few return as from the Cyclops' 
 
 caves ; 
 "Where e'en the powerful Sun dare not abide. 
 But as though fearful lest its darkness quench 
 His light, or coldness freeze his fires, he keeps 
 His summer off, and circles distantly, 
 "With eyes just peering o'er the horizon's edge ; 
 And through long winter leaves it to thp 
 
 freaks 
 
32 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 Of frozen oceans, glacial grind and creak, 
 Of cold auroral flashes, spectral fires 
 That warm not, fruit not, only glorify 
 The universal solitude and death ! 
 
 Most gladly thence unto the fervid zone 
 "Where Nature happy birth and sustenance 
 
 gives 
 To many a wildness, beauty, joy and use. 
 And hurt ; where life is joyous tanglement 
 Of conscious growths, flowers vocal, perfumed 
 
 song ; 
 One wide intoxication of delight ! 
 O, is God kinder here than at the poles ? 
 Does He, so just, exact of different zones 
 Of earth, and different zones of men, the like 
 Exuberance of fruitage, joy and love ? 
 The coldly and the warmly born and placed 
 He knows, and wisely bids each bear his own. 
 Sweet Justice, Mercy strong, we trust in 
 
 Thee! 
 
 Thence to those worthier lands, where loyal 
 
 toil 
 Is wont to reap her harvests of content ; 
 "Where, tangled forests and enfevered fens 
 Removed, the wastes soon blossom like the 
 
 rose ; 
 "Where wheatened praires lie and hay-sweet 
 
 vales. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 33 
 
 Where thrives the spindle with th' industrious 
 
 wheel ; 
 Where Yulcan forges with diviner art 
 For these our late imperial centuries 
 Such armors and equipments as excel 
 The strength and beauty of Achilles' shield. 
 
 Thence to the conclaves of the great and wise, 
 Where all the learning of the ancient years 
 And all that our New Time is thinking of, 
 In art and science, love and law and life, 
 Are sorted into various knowledges 
 And turned to human weal and glory of God. 
 
 To these, to all, we lead in vain our guests. 
 Alas, provincial World, provincial Men, 
 Provincial Science ! Poor, poor little Earth, 
 What canst thou show to heavenly visitants ? 
 What new to such as through star-realms have 
 
 searched ? 
 A trifling hour of travel of the light 
 Far out of sight leaves thine enfeebled rays. 
 Thy nations and thy sciences and fames 
 Are transient as thy quick dissolving clouds. 
 Those vaster spheres what populations crowd ; 
 What bulk and weight of star, what ponder- 
 ous 
 Great gravities, what virile might of winds 
 When God turns round His big electric globes ! 
 Who dwell where powers so puissant bear sway 
 
34 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Must have athletic frames and brawny souls, 
 Be chivalrous in daring, strong of will. 
 With high prerogatives of help or hurt, 
 Builders of thrones, of empires and of arts. 
 Dwarfing our mundane history by feats 
 Of might and prowess, and of big-braiued 
 heart ! 
 
 Now thoughts of quick leave-taking filled 
 
 their minds ; 
 Nor planned we for their entertainment more ; 
 Sad we and they, each for the other's pain. 
 Yet lingered they and we, unwilling still 
 To speak the farewell word. Auspicious 
 
 pause 
 
 "We had been ranging through the Orient 
 Among the ruins of the power and pride 
 Of ancient nations ; nor could scarcely tell 
 Whether to mourn the more o'er cities wrecked 
 Once glorious in letters, art and war ; 
 Or over living peoples that were dead 
 And buried under burdening wrongs ; alas, 
 All moldered into rottenness and dust 
 By chemistries more cruel than the grave's ! 
 
 II 
 
 Paused we a while near sacred Salem's walls, — 
 
 Jerusalem, the city once so proud, 
 
 Now long consigned to her sad hopelessness. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 35 
 
 In the vale we stood that separates and joins 
 The city and Mount Olivet, — they and we 
 To bid our long Farewell, — when suddenly 
 Cried one of them : 
 
 " This air is tremulous 
 With voices strange ! ' Tis heavy-laden too 
 With some great woe ; ' tis fragrant with a love 
 Our orb knew not ! Sculptured in it, behold, 
 A Face, a Form, a Sweetness, and a Strength, 
 Transcending all pertaining to human kind. 
 Transcendent in deep beauty — and deep woe ! 
 What aileth it ? The very rock He kneels 
 Against in prayer would soften to a pillow 
 For that poor aching head ! What aileth it ? 
 What aileth us — our vision and our hearts — 
 That ours should be such weird discovery ? 
 Is it that God hath granted us again 
 That exquisite subtlety of sense which is 
 The property of dwellers on our star, 
 Thus far denied us in our journeying. 
 So on each world we visit we shall use 
 Only such powers as Nature there ordains ? 
 Hath He our psychic, supernatural sense 
 Restored? Sure, Earth hath more than en- 
 
 tereth 
 Provincial eye or ear or thought of men ! 
 The air is filled with awful prodigy ; 
 No such strange atmosphere on other globe ; 
 The very ground doth sweat with tears and 
 
 prayers ; 
 
36 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 And there be signs of angels having been 
 About ! Their wing-marks verily visible here ! 
 The elements bear witness to the might 
 "Wherewith they fortified some ancient Soul 
 Of more than manly manliness in strange 
 Immeasurable agony ! His cries 
 Yet quiver in these suffering winds. O, here 
 "Was something brave and great. Behold, 
 These ancient trees will not consent to die, 
 E'en now have lived through aged centuries 
 To keep alive the tale of love and woe. 
 Sure, once this place was very full of God ! 
 "What, what if on this humble sphere we meet 
 Some awful Mystery, from ages hid. 
 To the intent that now unto the Powers 
 And Principalities in heavenly places 
 God's manifolded Wisdom be revealed." 
 
 He ceased. Nor we, nor his companions 
 chose 
 To break the spell of the deep stillness ; such 
 O'erawing spell as one might well-nigh hear ! 
 It minded one of that wide silence, which 
 Through its august supreme half-hour ruled 
 
 Heaven ; 
 "When blast of trumpet blew not, the redeemed 
 Ceased singing, and the eternal joy grew mute 
 At what the next great seal might open forth ! 
 So, silent we; silent in wonder grave; 
 Silent, alas, for shame ; for shame that we, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 37 
 
 Unfolding what Earth had illustrious, 
 Had ne'er rehearsed the story of the Cross 
 And Him who for our succor died thereon ! 
 
 Then did we marvel at that heaven-born sense 
 Whereby our guests saw things invisible, 
 And found the soundless air replete with 
 
 speech ; 
 All spiritual substances so real 
 That solar beams mere slanting shadows 
 
 seemed. 
 And solid ground but thin transparent air. 
 Then knew we that the things we see are not ; 
 What our crude senses catch not, these abide ! 
 With awe, with pride, we gazed upon our 
 
 guests 
 Clearly with so superior powers endued. 
 Now how did their majestic forms dilate; 
 How tall they grew, colossal, glorious ! 
 What piercing vision, vivid consciousness ; 
 What quick and delicate privity of thought ; 
 What radiant glow of ecstasy, and then 
 Most princely grace and graciousness ! 
 O, can it be most far famed cherubim 
 Stand forth in more impressive lustrousness ? 
 
 Meanwhile, the more effulgent they became. 
 The more ethereal, invisible ; 
 To God, though, and their like, most real and 
 grand. 
 
38 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Now faded they into the subtle, strange, 
 
 Intangibility of angel-substance! Ah, 
 
 How near God seemed to us ; and quick 
 
 thought we 
 Whether this might not be the way He meant 
 We men from our mortality should pass 
 To life beyond. Sweet would such passage be ! 
 Not in that racking way our sins made choice ; 
 Through sickness, anguishes, and death-decay. 
 Meant He not rather, when our work was 
 
 done, 
 And we with happy toil had earned our rest, 
 And more and more like Him had grown, it 
 
 should 
 Be ours to melt away into the heavenly light, 
 Soul-life dissolving this our sensuous, 
 And we before the faces of fond friends 
 Pass unto our divine beatitudes ? 
 Ay, sweetly fading into brighter light ! 
 Fading — as fades brown bud into fair flower; 
 Fading — as fades a sorrow into joy ; 
 Fading — as moaning fades into rich song; 
 Fading — as fades dim twilight to broad day ! 
 Fading ? Let death fade to immortalness ! 
 
 Now midst this radiant transformation scene. 
 What gentle voices brake upon our hearts 
 As listening joy gat o'er her first surprise. 
 First sad and soft, a plaintive aria. 
 With wonder filled and pleased bewilderments ; 
 
The divine processionjl 39 
 
 Then tender requiems blent with anthemed 
 
 joy; 
 
 When, as with clearer light the rapture grew, 
 A song burst forth men might attempt in vain. 
 Some angels must have flown down from the 
 
 sky, 
 And myriad heavenly strangers joined their 
 
 choir ! 
 A most delicious tumult of such praise, 
 As though from all the radiant spheres our 
 
 guests 
 Had visited had floated hither strains 
 Of their selectest melodies ; as though 
 The ancient songs of God's bright Morning 
 
 Stars 
 Had fallen in pieces, and come quivering down, 
 A shower of shining, singing meteors ! 
 
 Soon, though, we heard the wondering stran- 
 gers speak, 
 
 Both they and we by reverent awe subdued. 
 
 And it did seem that great Invisibles 
 
 Ineffable thoughts did give to them, which they 
 
 Might scarce interpret to themselves. Still 
 were 
 
 By us the Unbeholden well-nigh seen ; 
 
 So close our fellowship and touch with Seers ! 
 
 We meanwhile silent, only at times impelled 
 Our wondering praise in broken lays to sing ; 
 
40 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Silent and awed, as on that ancient night, 
 That Holy Night,^') when God's and the 
 
 World's own Babe 
 "Was born. Hushed grew the angel-cry ; then 
 
 hushed 
 The noiseful Earth as God a Babe became. 
 Glad Joseph walking, walked not ; o'er the cave 
 The Star stood ; this the rest observing held 
 Their stedfast places in th' adoring sky ! 
 Who ate, ate not. Dear nursing lambs but 
 
 touched 
 The dripping udders of the bleating dams 
 To taste not, musing in some tender way 
 Of the dear spotless Lamb of God, just born, 
 In sacrifice to die ! E'en birds of night. 
 Owl, hawk, unreverent bat, in mid-air hung, 
 As though in wonder what their fate, when 
 
 the Light 
 Of the World should bid the Darkness flee ! 
 
 Waters 
 Of brook and billow, fountains and falling 
 
 rains. 
 On the instant paused, in honor of the Life 
 That in its depths and breadths was Fountain 
 
 pure 
 Wherein the World should bathe, and cleansed 
 
 be! 
 
 This, then, we heard the wondering wanderers 
 
 say: 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 41 
 
 "Alas, poor World, what hath behappened 
 
 thee? 
 What pensive joy hath thee so beautified ? 
 What holy bitterness hath sweetened thee ? 
 What awful Presence doth this spot invade ? 
 What angel wings have stirred this sensitive 
 
 air? 
 What story, venerable Trees, have ye 
 Outlived great centuries to tell ? Survive 
 Shall ye till the All-Master come again ? 
 Will live so He may once again, not bow 
 In tears, but stand full-height your branches 
 
 glad 
 Among, and once again His enemies 
 Forgive, and bless those years agone, wherein 
 For sins of men He groaned in travail-pains ? 
 Will stand, scarred Olives, till He come again ? 
 Will stand until His triumph be complete ? 
 Will stand till Earth by fire be glorified. 
 And every vestige of the curse be gone, — 
 Save sacred wounds whereby Earth's wounds 
 
 are healed." 
 
 What aileth thee, poor troubled Earth ? 
 
 Why heaves thy bosom so ? 
 Dost bear the burden of what mirth, 
 
 The sweetness of what woe ? 
 
 What aileth thee, thou quivering Air? 
 
 Art brushed by Angel wing? 
 What moves thee now to sad despair, 
 
 And now with joy to sing? 
 
42 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 Ye aged Olives, strangely strong, 
 "What griefs have weighed ye down ? 
 
 What grace maintained ye all along 
 These ages of renown ? 
 
 Surely, how dreadful is this place ! 
 
 God hath borne burden here ? 
 Take off thy shoes, low bow thy face ; 
 
 Worship with reverent fear ! 
 
 " Let us around this fateful spot. Perchance 
 
 Some new adventure may befall us. See, 
 
 Whither may lead these footprints ? Wearied 
 was 
 
 The traveller, and travailing painfully. 
 
 Here bent His knees in prayer; and here as 
 though 
 
 Some baleful burden bent Him down. He went 
 
 Into the Temple ; was He Priest ? To th' Pal- 
 ace ; 
 
 Was He King? Thence out to Calvary ; 
 
 Was it to see some ruffian tortured ? Here 
 
 Be signs He dragged a cross up after Him ; 
 
 Shall He make sure the villain die ; intent 
 
 Upon it so Himself will carry it 
 
 Though He shall faint upon the way? Re- 
 venge ! 
 
 — Ay, here have been divine revenges ! He 
 
 His own cross carried — and the sins of many ! 
 
 He on Himself did lay the sins of all. 
 
 — How dreadful is this place ! True God was 
 here. 
 
THE D I FINE PROCESSIONJL 43 
 
 " Sure once this place was full of God ; and He, 
 Himself, must have been very full of God ! 
 O, ne'er on other worlds such spectacle ; 
 Ne'er wickedness so venturous in revolt ; 
 Nor Love so amorous of self-sacrifice 
 She had quite died had death denied her been. 
 By sin was Love here pinioned to the Cross, 
 And pinioned fast and dead most regnant 
 proved ! 
 
 " Lo, now before us Vision rare and grand ; 
 The Cross ! The Cross on which the Anointed 
 
 died! 
 Lo, now the Cross, spectral at first, and dread ; 
 Carved out full clearly to our view ; on it 
 Hangs One so like and yet so unlike man ! 
 Nature has ne'er recovered from the shock 
 Of that great tragedy ; and where the two 
 Stout timbers crossed, and towards the frown- 
 ing sky 
 Held up the self-uphelping Son of God, 
 The conscious elements with horror struck 
 Have taken form of awful Crucifix 
 And glorious Christ ; shocked, frozen, crys- 
 talled hard 
 Into exactest copy ; here to stand 
 While this sad world shall last ; immovable, 
 Unwasting under wear of years; nor bows 
 To winds ; nor knows dissolving rains ; nor 
 heeds 
 
44 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 The burning sun, or smiles, or tears of men ! 
 Grim, cold and hard, it stands forever — the 
 
 Cross, — 
 Man put that up ; rigid and firm it stands ; 
 Only it shudders with the thought how once 
 It heaved beneath the tremor of the Christ 
 In lonesome death ; but the image of Christ 
 
 thereon. 
 This ever glows with grace and peace divine; 
 Forevermore it weeps and loves and prays : 
 ' Father, forgive, they know not what they 
 
 do!' 
 Sweet and o'ercoming prayer He oft had 
 
 prayed ; 
 Lo, wearied Nations look to Him, and live ! 
 
 Ill 
 
 " But Nature here will not, and cannot, stay 
 Her grief. In that high urgent hour when her 
 Dear Lord yielded His affluent life for man, 
 She groaned aloud, and with vast horror 
 
 shook. 
 Too dazed she was to see the midday sun, 
 And so bereft of nerve that e'en the dead 
 Did take advantage of her straits, and they 
 Who through starvations, poisons, pestilence. 
 Or crucifixions, or most wild despairs. 
 Had lost all strength, did stronger prove than 
 
 she; 
 And open burst the rock-locked sepulchres ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 45 
 
 And wondering wandered through the won- 
 dering streets. 
 
 Not o'er her grief hath Nature gotten yet ; 
 
 Lo, 'neath this Wonder-Cross she weepeth 
 still. 
 
 Where Mary knelt, and wrung her hands as 
 woe 
 
 Did wring her heart, poor Nature lingers now, 
 
 An aged form, bowed down with years and 
 tears ; 
 
 And as she kneels, forward and backward 
 bends ; 
 
 And on her head unceasingly she casts 
 
 The funeral ashes of her burned-up hopes 1 " 
 
 O then what woe our inmost spirits stirred 
 As they and we her lamentations heard. 
 
 " Woe ! Woe is me ! Why am I punished 
 
 thus? 
 Why hath thus perished my beloved Son ? 
 For mine was He as well as God's dear Son ! 
 O, what did I, bereaved thus to be ? 
 Why did I bear Thee, Christ ? Why nourish 
 
 Thee 
 Upon the swelling bosom of my joy ? 
 Why feed Thee tenderly only to make 
 Thee fat for sacrifice ? Poor Child, had I 
 But died, quenching Thy life ere yet Thou 
 
 light 
 
46 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Beheldest ! Had I Herod's sword let smite, 
 Thou would'st have smiled upon its keen 
 
 bright flash ! 
 Why let I live the wicked sons of men, 
 Who, needing Thee, would still mistreat Thee 
 
 so, 
 And nail Thy blessed body to the Cross? 
 O, why made I to grow the fateful trees 
 Whose timbers should be forced to such base 
 
 use? 
 Since that Dark Day, the Aspen hath not 
 
 got 
 Over her shivering fright at the sad sight ; 
 Whilst yet grow trees that held Him to His 
 
 death ; 
 Cedar, His feet ; the body, Cyprus, tall ; 
 The Palm, His hands ; Olive, His title mock, (^) 
 
 *I[j.aou<s 6 BaffiXkug tcov ^luvdaituv ! * 
 
 " Thou cruel Wood, what gave thee strength 
 
 to uphold 
 So weighty a crime, so weighty a sufferer. 
 Such weight of tortured love ? Why took'st 
 
 not fire 
 From men's hot passion, from Christ's burning 
 
 love. 
 With flame-swords scaring His tormentors oflP ? 
 Infelix lignum ! Pectus infelix ! f 
 
 * "Jesus, the King of the Jews ! " 
 
 t " Unhappy Wood ! Unhappy Heart ! " 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 47 
 
 Ah, wretched me ! Thou blundering, cruel 
 
 Spear, 
 How could'st thou, though great Rome did 
 
 press thee hard. 
 Thus wanton press into the sore-hurt heart 
 Of that dear Sufferer, and not at once 
 Lose all thy steely hardness and dissolve 
 In love ? O, wretched me, to have such 
 
 part 
 In such most wretched work ! 
 
 "But this I did; 
 "When unto me was handed back my dear 
 Dead Child, my murdered Lord, though by 
 
 Kome's seal 
 Imperial the tomb was closed, I held 
 So lightly down the massive slab it must 
 Quick yield to the most delicate angel-touch ; 
 And forth He came, alive, illustrious, strong 
 To upraise a great dead world from out its 
 
 grave ! 
 And when. His mission ended. He returned 
 To Heaven, my most resplendent clouds I 
 
 called 
 To be His fitting chariot and steeds, 
 Immantled with superbest draperies ; 
 And over them the sun His rainbows hung ; 
 And round about them angels flung their 
 
 praise. 
 O, they did vie with the transplendencies 
 
48 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Of the Pearl-Gates through which He conquer- 
 ing passed, 
 Hailed King of Kings, and august Lord of All ! 
 
 "Yes, and some day He shall come back 
 again ; 
 
 The worlds shall own Him then, all their 
 bright host ; 
 
 Then shall my echoing thunders welcome Him 
 
 With triumphing salute heard round the globe ! 
 
 Not the full-orbed sun shall light the world 
 
 Enough ; my lightnings round His feet shall 
 play; 
 
 My fair cloud-steeds and chariots shall con- 
 duct 
 
 Him down, and to His throne! Ay, as He 
 went, 
 
 So in like manner shall He come again. 
 
 Even so. Lord Jesus ; quickly come ! Amen." 
 
 Lo, Nature will not yet, though, o'er her 
 
 grief ; 
 Her tears fall full abundant as the rains ; 
 Still sits she down beneath this mystic Cross ; 
 Low bows her head ; and moaning, o'er it 
 
 casts 
 Unceasingly her ashes of despair ! 
 
 " Poor Me, poor Me ! To nurse so sweet a 
 Child, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 49 
 
 Vicarious victim of so woeful wrongs ! 
 Strange fortune mine. First He gave life to 
 
 me ; 
 Then I to Him ; this then I rudely wrenched 
 From Him ; when He in turn gave ampler 
 
 life 
 To me. O, most unfortunate fortune mine ; 
 Would my misfortune might as fortunate be ! 
 — Alas, my head grows crazed with my heart, 
 And midst my hopes I cannot stay my tears ! 
 
 " O Walls of Salem ! Share with me my woe ; 
 
 Nor builded be ; nor echoing with shout 
 
 Of happy habitant! And ye surrounding 
 
 Hills, 
 Once mirthful with the vineyard's dance and 
 
 Cease bearing now, I pray. The world else- 
 where 
 
 Shall bloom with beauty ; but, O Hills and 
 Vales 
 
 Of Palestine, that at your Master's smile 
 
 Once thrilled, O Fields that once rejoiced to 
 give 
 
 Eefreshment to the wearied Son of Man, 
 
 I pray, let no fruit grow on ye henceforth ; 
 
 Only our weeds of mourning let us wear. 
 
 Ay, let's to our Gethsemane awhile! 
 
 Here watch with me while I shall weep and 
 pray. 
 
50 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 God ! God ! Where be Thy strengthening 
 
 angels now, 
 To help me say : ' Thy will, not mine be 
 
 done'?" 
 Thus bitterly did Nature vent her woe. 
 
 IV 
 
 " Ah, would we were but angels," ( thus we 
 
 heard 
 The Voices from this scene ineffable,) 
 "Would we were gifted angels, through this 
 
 night 
 So dark, so long, of struggle and of prayer, 
 To give thee solace, Mother ! We would wipe 
 Thy tears, would mingle sweetness in thy cup, 
 Would nourish thee unto such patient hope, 
 That through love's fond and firm expectan- 
 cies 
 Thy cup's black dregs should smack of luscious- 
 ness! 
 
 " Nature, thou knowest not, nor thou, O Man, 
 
 The amplitude of meaning in the Cross ; 
 
 Nor we, nor angels know, though they through 
 
 all 
 These years into its mysteries have searched. 
 None know it well, nor can ; the anguish of 't, 
 Nor yet the anguishes it grandly heals ; 
 Man's stupid wrath, nor Christ's wise ways of 
 
 love ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 51 
 
 Man's depths of woe, nor his exalted ness ; 
 The glory he threw away, nor the new crown 
 The Lord doth crown him with ; the acrid gall, 
 The wine of human love turned sour which sin 
 Made the forgiving Christ to drink ; all this 
 We may not comprehend. We only know 
 That, better than the fabled fountain sought 
 In realms remote in vain. He opened up 
 In man's own breast the fount whose healing 
 
 flow — 
 Too often sealed by blundering self-thought — 
 Eeclaims from most importunate disease, 
 Transforms a very ugliness to grace. 
 And palsied age to brave immortal youth. 
 We only know, that as fair Thetis, 'gainst 
 Olympus' laws, the dead Patroclus wrapped 
 In rare ambrosia of the gods, to save 
 From grave and worm, for honored funeral- 
 pyre 
 And worthy obsequies, his godlike form ; 
 So Christ in a retaliation most 
 Complete for His most bitter draught, brought 
 
 Heaven's 
 Own precious nectar down, not 'gainst the 
 
 laws. 
 But all accordantly with God's decree ; 
 And with it He did wash the ugly wounds 
 And quench the thirst of dying enemies, 
 Nursing them up to everlasting life ! 
 O, for a brave, kind man a man might die ; 
 
52 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Christ baffles death in djing for His foes ; 
 Transforming hate to wondering laud and 
 love ! 
 
 "0, Love, who made thee? and of what? 
 
 Report 
 Thyself. Art hero, daughter, mother, priest, 
 Of what god ? Whence thy way of balancing 
 Accounts ? Such sweetness for man's bitter 
 
 gall; 
 The murder of God's Son repaying thus 
 With joyous immortality on high ? 
 Ah, Love, tell, tell us, were thy tears quite 
 
 meant 
 Thou sheddest over sin, and suffering Christ ? 
 Was not thy woe seasoned with a faint bliss ? 
 Did'st thou not joy and triumph in the threat 
 Of such most sweet revenges ? Tell us. Love, 
 Who happy gave thee birth? Who art thou? 
 
 Speak ! 
 Since God is Love, is Love then very God ? 
 Or, if He hath His God, is it thou. Love ? 
 O, if aweary He doth ever grow 
 With the forced prayers and praises of the 
 
 world. 
 By its unwholesome incense suffocate, 
 And, deafened by its praying gong and horn, 
 Exclaim out of fatigue divine : ' I, too. 
 Would seek my sweet refreshment in a prayer ! ' 
 O Sovereign Love, shall He not look to thee ? 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 53 
 
 " Ay, what is Worship ? Is it but to watch 
 
 The sky for vespers, and the waking cock 
 
 To crow the hour when men may matins say ? 
 
 Is it to burn so many candles hour 
 
 By hour ? Is it to wear a sorry look 
 
 In this bright world, and starve oneself at 
 
 fasts ; 
 "When sin the rather needs be starved out, 
 And God were better pleased were men but 
 
 pleased 
 With what He gives them richly to enjoy ? 
 Is 't worship of the holy Lord to measure off 
 So many yards of stuff for vestments, ay, 
 Of stuff ? The prayers men heedless mouth, 
 
 the hymns 
 They sing for admiration, or perchance 
 Pay for, only to grumble afterwards : 
 ' The choir did murder them ; ' or, ' Now let's 
 
 clap 
 This Miserere ! Bravely done ! ' Alas, 
 To clap a dirge ! to encore a requiem 
 That hymns the sacred sorrows of the Lord;- 
 Immortal love in mortal agonies ! 
 
 " These be but stuff, not worship. Never so 
 Doth great Jehovah. But to pray, to praise, — 
 If these consist in holy reverence 
 And noble pity and strong helpfulness. 
 In joy o'er all tliat's good, mercy for them 
 That sin, life-giving for life-taking, one 
 
54 THE DIVINE PROCESSIOMJL 
 
 Supreme devotion to the supreme good, 
 
 In worthy love of what unlovely is, 
 
 In seeking but to bless ; then sweet, strong 
 
 Love, 
 O, if there be some mystic worship which 
 The Lord would pay, it sure must be to thee ! 
 
 "Nay, Nature, thou yet knowest not, nor 
 Man, 
 
 Nor Angel, the deep purposes of Love ; 
 
 The infinite intentions of the Cross. 
 
 Illustrious disclosure this, of grace, 
 
 Of worship, service, admirable God ! 
 
 In place of servile enemies He dies ; 
 
 His life they spoil in one short cruel hour 
 
 Good quittance pleads for murderous cen- 
 turies ; 
 
 The blood demanded 'gainst all laws of men 
 
 Makes satisfaction to the laws divine; 
 
 Man's spear of wrath transfixes Christ to 
 death, 
 
 Christ's spear of love transfigures man to life ! 
 
 Man stretched far out the arms of anguished 
 Christ, 
 
 Thereby to nail Him firmlier to the wood ; 
 
 ' So be,' saith Love, ' stretch them to th' utter- 
 most. 
 
 So they embrace wide scattered sons of men ! ' 
 
 Type evermore of sacrifice ! God will 
 
 Not leave the chrism of pain to man alone ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 55 
 
 He too will share the sacrament of tears. 
 Blameless and pure, His Son bears sins of 
 
 men ; 
 Dies, glorious sacrifice, upon the Tree ; 
 Lo, Nature dies for nature, man for man, 
 Now for them both Christ craves the cruel 
 
 Cross ! 
 No world of goodlier gods to suffer for, 
 He hastes to make inhuman man divine ; 
 And taking on Himself the mortal form. 
 All the more godlike strikes the wondering 
 
 worlds ! 
 
 " O, hath this not divine significance ? 
 Hath God for Pontine Marshes more regard 
 And favor than for healthful Alban Hills ? 
 Have fevers their contagion ; hath not love ? 
 Will creatures not love's choice infection catch, 
 Most welcome plague with sure, sweet fatal- 
 
 ness? 
 O, wholesome Pestilence, would the sick 
 
 world 
 Infected were by thee, by thee ! Ah, yes, 
 If fevers be contagious why not love ? 
 O, if God strike some wondrous harmony, 
 And it go on resounding through the earth, 
 Shall forests, bending skies, and rocky heights. 
 And old dead walls of houses tenantless, 
 All have their echoes ; but shall Souls have 
 
 none? 
 
56 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Or, will not all respond in grateful praise, 
 Until ere long the wide Creation falls 
 Into august unisonance of psalm ? 
 
 " Ay, who hath guaged the might of godlike 
 
 Love ? 
 Hath she not braver, swifter wing than Light, 
 And power to melt where sun-heat shall but 
 
 chill ? 
 Kindleth she not a kindlier, kinglier spring, 
 Making new worlds resplendent with new 
 
 grace ? 
 The distant heavens feel thy glow, O Love, 
 And the benign and blest infection take. 
 The burning constellations of the sky 
 Are moved by an unen vying jealousy. 
 And, since on this but half-illumined orb 
 With alternating night and day the sign, 
 The Sign by which God conquers, stands erect. 
 And not on them ; their most resplendent gems 
 They choose, and by strange art inspired they 
 
 group 
 In figure cruciform ; and far aloft, 
 Adown, abroad, blazes the Southern Cross, 
 Outshining and eternal, signaling 
 God's Banner over all the world is Love 1 " 
 
 Regions Uuknowu, the Equator far beyond, 
 
 'Mongst whose chill splendors screams the Albatross, 
 Tell me of what ye be most proudly fond. 
 "The Pole-star of the Cross ! " 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL S7 
 
 O Southeru Seas, will deign to tell me how 
 
 Your ruainuers, whose barks your winds wild toss 
 By uight, know whither to bend the anxious prow ? 
 "The Pole-star is the Cross! " 
 
 Ye deep entangled Southern Forests, say, 
 
 When on me buried in your mire and moss 
 Weird dark comes down, how may I find my way ? 
 "The Pole-star is the Cross!" 
 
 Spectral Auroras of the Southern Pole, 
 
 Of your transcendent glories hint the cause; 
 What, and why, guard ye with night's bright patrol ? 
 " The Pole-Star of the Cross! " 
 
 Ye glittering giant Glaciers, Ice-Peaks stern, 
 Earth's utmost zone ye woudrously emboss 
 With fearful splendors! What will have me learn? 
 "The Pole-Star is the Cross! " 
 
 Far off beyond the utmost stretch of thought, 
 
 God's symbol in yon heavens ever draws 
 The reverent eye; and timorous trust is taught 
 The Pole-Star is the Cross. 
 
 For joy and safety on life's pilgrim way. 
 
 For sacred triumph in each sacred cause. 
 For patience till the Christ o'er all hath sway, — 
 The Pole-Star is the Cross! 
 
 Midnight is past; the Cross begins to bend! 
 
 ('Mongst ancient legends this a favorite clause,) 
 Thou pointest whither God's old Prophets kenned: 
 The Pole-star is the Cross! 
 
 Midnight is past! But long as darkness stays 
 That faithful sentinel ne'er once withdraws; 
 Loyal it stands for every wanderer's gaze — 
 True Pole-Stai- of the Cross! 
 
58 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 Shine on! Shine on! Cross of the Southern Sky! 
 
 Kight triumphs still; Wrong only meets with loss; 
 The Conquering Sign reveals God's victory nigh! 
 Hail! Pole-Star of the Cross! 
 
 " Nay, not yet is God's purpose of the Cross 
 Full known, nor its immense enkindling power. 
 Its wise, imperial reach and rescue; nor 
 The under, upper, inter-worlds it saves. 
 What this great World's made up of none 
 
 may know ; 
 A complex thing; wheels within wheels; in 
 
 these 
 Yet more ; each hath its orbit ; all agree ; 
 Worlds underlie each other, and within ; 
 (As once the rapt Augustine said : ' Major 
 In magnis^ inaximiis in minimis ! " *) 
 Involved, distinct ; within the ugly, fair ; 
 Immense in small ; great soul-worlds right in 
 
 clay; 
 A myriad glad concurrent interspheres ; 
 Unconscious each of other's life and touch ; 
 Times, spaces, lives, all multiple in one ! 
 
 " No ear so keen as to o'erhear a vision ; 
 No arm so strong as to embrace a flavor ; 
 No thirsting lips may feed upon a perfume ; 
 No eye behold the clanging battle-sound ! 
 Space is not measure of eternity. 
 
 * " Greater in great, greatest in least." — Augustine, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 59 
 
 Crowd God in a dungeon, He'll crowd worlds 
 
 in there, 
 As sometimes He packs seons into days ! 
 Where mountains rise roll seas invisible ; 
 Where armies fight the mystic dance goes on ; 
 Mid forest shades an unseen city's hum ; 
 'Neath winter snows spring burrows teasingly ; 
 Where sorrow sighs, oft hides jocund surprise ; 
 Where darkness reigns a thousand suns be 
 
 bright ; — 
 The Lord of Hosts well-nigh bewildering! 
 The world o'erflows with fullness ; naught is 
 
 void ; 
 Other- world voices fill earth's silences ; 
 Where naught appears stand God's illustrious 
 
 hosts ; 
 Great world of worlds, and worlds in worlds 
 
 are His ! (*) 
 
 "O, know that God is greater than His 
 
 Avorks ; 
 Know well that only He is infinite ; 
 That nowhere is there perfect flower or fruit, 
 That nowhere yet is perfect plant or man. 
 Or worm, or songful bird, or radiant sun ; 
 For fairest forms He can new fairness find. 
 For noblest psalms more tuneful harmonies. 
 For grandest constellations nobler spheres. 
 For highest seraph heavenlier dignities. 
 For heaven stronger angels, saintlier saints ;— 
 
6o THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Only the Lord, His Christ, His Spirit, infinite 1 
 
 His glory this, His works age after age 
 
 Still grander grow in glad approach towards 
 
 Him. 
 In godlike sons godlikeness thriftliest grows. 
 
 " O, know that God is greater than His 
 
 works ; 
 Know well that as there be deep under-realms 
 Of things, and over-realms, and realms far 
 
 out, 
 (Beyond the farthest e'en yet farther shine !) 
 So when thou thinkest to have found out Him, 
 Though the eternal years thy quadrant be, 
 There be great unexplored firmaments 
 Of Deity, vast solemn underworlds 
 Of God ; of God in God ; of God outside 
 Of God ; (why marvel at the thought of Three 
 In One ?) earth's very emptinesses full 
 Of Deity ; its crowded fullnesses 
 For Him yet finding room ! Space cramps 
 
 Him, time 
 Constricts Him, love and justice do ; that is. 
 What men call such, not He, tapers beside 
 The glowing sun ! And yet what blame hath 
 
 He! 
 Infinite God, what breadth of Being Thine! 
 What depths of lore, law, love ; unsearchable 
 Thy judgments, and Thy ways past finding 
 
 out! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 6i 
 
 " O, think, ye Men, that ye may measure all 
 He meaneth in this mighty, matchless deed, 
 Wherein He makes incarnate His dear Son ; 
 Allies Him to your weak and guilty race ; 
 Lets hunger harry Him ; lets enemies 
 Oppress Him, friends betray, and fiends 
 
 malign 
 From Hell try most unusual artifice ; 
 Lets death close fast those eyes, those tender 
 
 eyes, 
 That ne'er could close themselves to human 
 
 need ; — 
 O, sealed so tight-shut even God is hid. 
 And out upon the darkness all around 
 The deeper inward darkness cries, 'My God ! 
 My God ! why hast Thou too forsaken Me ? ' 
 Lo, Nature lifts her anguish-cry e'en yet 
 Before this mystic Cross ; ' Why suffered I 
 Such suffering to fall on Thee, my Child ? ' " 
 
 Thus to our hearts attent and marvelling 
 
 Interpreted our friends invisible 
 
 The things they learned, knowing full well 
 
 how we 
 With eager mind besought the Lord for light. 
 And grasped for this new learning, Now a 
 
 deep 
 And awful silence gathered round ; nor sound 
 Was there of whisper, or the rustle soft 
 Of robes and wings unseen. Nature, alert, 
 
62 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Deep reverent stillness kept. The silence long. 
 Then in low-murmuring voice one ventured 
 speech. 
 
 " Auguster Presence here ! More wondrous 
 
 woe ! 
 Somehow One seemeth to grieve more, e'en 
 
 He, 
 The Eternal Father of the Eternal Son ! 
 As though on Him hath fallen an infinite 
 
 pain ! 
 O, of His woe, His woe ineffable. 
 This hallowed scene is conscious. Hear we 
 
 not 
 A godlike sorrow godlikely suppressed ? 
 Silent be we when the Eternal Love, 
 The eternal Wisdom, hath His thought to 
 
 speak ! " 
 
 And now no more heard we our Visitors, 
 Save as at times they joined in reverent 
 psalm. 
 
 V 
 
 Silent be our worship now, 
 As before the Lord we bow, 
 Scarcely lifting reverent brow ! 
 
 Open be our ears to hear 
 As Jehovah draweth near; 
 Inmost prayer and praise sincere. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 63 
 
 What if He have godlike pain 
 O'er the blessed Saviour slain, 
 Slain for sous of men in vain! 
 
 From the heavens cometh He, 
 Kobed in might and majesty. 
 Holy One, we worship Thee! 
 
 O the splendors of His face! 
 Holy, holy, is this place 
 With the glories of His grace! 
 
 Lord! Behold us lowly kneeling; 
 To Thy mercy, Lord, appealing! 
 Waiting for Thy holy healing! 
 
 Holy, holy, holy Lord, 
 By all holy hosts adored! 
 Eeverent we attend Thy Word! 
 
 "Attend, my Star-born; and Mine Earth- 
 born, hear ! 
 And thou, most patient Nature, whose birth- 
 pangs 
 The heart of thy Creator move ! Hear ye 
 My holy purpose in the solemn griefs 
 Of struggling, stumbling ages, all to Me 
 A pained delight and a delighted pain ; 
 As the imperfect towards the perfect strains, 
 "Weakness matures to might, and ill to good ! 
 
 " Ye first, or latest born, basest or best. 
 Ye ever unforgotten of your Lord ; 
 O, ever loved and served and borne-with j 
 hear 
 
64 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Your Maker and your Father's mindful heart ! 
 Nor woe, nor joy of your evolving lives, 
 But He insists on having His full share. 
 — The luxury of Godhead is to love ! 
 
 " First, Nature, My Voice hear ! Hear Him 
 
 who made 
 Thee ! Be it likewise Mine to feel with thee ! 
 My "Well-Beloved, My Son, before all worlds 
 TV as He, of Me, with Me, was with Me One ! 
 Not false spake He, ' I am ! ' Fairer was 
 
 He 
 Than the effulgent stars. In Him there dwelt 
 More might than holds up the sphere-weighted 
 
 skies. 
 To bear least semblance to His matchless grace 
 Were angel's proudest joy. Well weepest 
 
 thou, 
 Dear Nature, that thy bosom, nursing Him, 
 Nursed them that nailed Him to the cruel 
 
 Tree! 
 
 " Alas, 'twas Mine to hold My lightnings back 
 
 Vaulting to dash upon His murderers ; 
 
 To check the earth's hot anger, so ne'er 
 
 quaked 
 It for the city's overthrow. 'Twas Mine 
 To feed their life while they nursed wicked- 
 ness; 
 To keep still stiff the half-reluctant spear ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 65 
 
 To be, Myself, the immament God in steel 
 And sneer and Jewish brain and Koman 
 
 power ; 
 Myself Mine own Son's slayer ! 
 
 " O, through all 
 The ageless aeons never was it Mine 
 To see, to bear, to do such work ; Mine own 
 Life sharpened into pointed spear to pierce 
 The gentle Christ-heart of My blessed Son ! 
 Then I with Him the sins of many bare ! 
 On Him were laid a world's iniquities ; 
 His deepest soul an offering was for sin ; 
 'Twas Mine with His hard bruising to be 
 
 pleased ; 
 Nor might I turn one blow, nor ease one pain ! 
 While He, heroic, drank the vital wine, 
 'Twas Mine to keep unto the uttermost 
 The life in Him, the willing tortured life ; 
 Mine to be life of all this death to Him. 
 O, infinite grief of Mine, to keep the world , 
 Still moving on, with such strange madness 
 
 mad ; 
 Nations and ages bent on ruthless war ; 
 O, infinite grief, to hold the sun above, 
 While wide and far my sons the blood-tide 
 
 press ; 
 To spread over the earth the placid night, — 
 Protesting covert for deep-counselling crime ! 
 Now Mine, alas, to have to do with this 
 
66 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Most deepest baseness, this most highest guilt ; 
 
 To let this tragedy be acted out, 
 
 And hold in check the vehement worlds that 
 
 would 
 Hurl themselves white-hot 'gainst such fla- 
 grant deed ! 
 
 " Yet would He yield His life up so He might 
 
 Lost life restore, diviner life impart, 
 
 And ransom be for sinful sons of men. 
 
 He would unmurmuring to the slaughter go, 
 
 And sorrow, His and Mine, were joy if but 
 
 My wearied wanderers wander back to Me ! 
 
 May the rude spear that opened great Christ's 
 
 heart 
 So forth therefrom the precious life-blood 
 
 poured, 
 But pierce mayhap the hard-closed hearts of 
 
 men, 
 That into them may flow this spilled life 
 Of love ! By torn hands to unfeeling Cross 
 He clings, so men with stronger grasp may cling 
 To Him ! Between two thieves He hangs, so 
 
 men 
 Though thieves and outcasts may His pardons 
 
 hear. 
 My face I hid from His deep-anguished soul, 
 So His full gaze on men might tender turn. 
 And yet, ah Me, that I consent must give 
 To th' murder of My Son ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 67 
 
 " Strange heartless Earth, 
 Right well know I thy sin, have cause to 
 
 know ; 
 Into My soul hath passed a grief thou ne'er 
 Can'st understand; nor may'st thou compre- 
 hend 
 How Deity can suffer, th' Infinite 
 Have pain ; how e'en apparent failure face 
 The Almighty ; nor can'st thou begin to tell 
 What Infinite, Divine, Eternal, be. 
 From My Incarnate learn what thought thou 
 
 may'st 
 Of God ; and know into his heart hath passed 
 A pain divinely strange and great. Therefore, 
 I plead, how could'st thou My great majesty 
 Affront, and slaying My dear Son, offend 
 My might and love ? How fall from thy fine 
 
 height 
 Of virtue, innocence and beauty ? How 
 Could'st wreck immortal fortune for a short 
 Day's joy ? How grieve thy Lord to gratify 
 His enemy, and thine ? How fill thy years 
 On earth with sin and shame, thy years beyond 
 With death eternal ? How do such great 
 
 wrong 
 My well-beloved Son must needs make haste 
 Unto thy rescue, and Himself become 
 (He, favorite of angels, Wonderful, 
 The Counsellor, the mighty Prince of Peace), 
 Thy victor's victim, dying for thy sake ? 
 
68 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " But, lo, I bid thee stand, hope, live, o'ercome. 
 Lo, I condemn thee not ; go, sin no more. 
 Deem Me not slow to grant My Son His prayer 
 To die for thee. His choice it was. Such 
 
 bliss 
 Had not been His before, — a sacrifice 
 For guilt. ' Lo, in the book 'tis writ of Me ; 
 I come, I come to do Thy will, O God ! ' 
 Think not He with reluctance died. Love, all 
 Spontaneous, ne'er conscious is of what 
 Men deem a self-denial and a cross. 
 For thee, by thee, Man, on lone Golgotha, 
 Was He transfixed ; but, far more bitter 
 
 draught 
 Had He found heaven's sweetest waters than 
 Gethsemane's ; the praise of angel hosts 
 More rankling than the mob's wild jeers ; 
 The gemmed crown more painful than the 
 
 thorns ; 
 The sovereign sceptre heavier in His hands 
 Than cross rough-mortised by the blundering 
 
 rage 
 Of Jew and Koman, though beneath it sank 
 His world-upholding might ; more anguishf ul 
 Than nails of iron had proven golden throne ; 
 All this had He not hastened from the joy. 
 The golden praise and splendor, to redeem 
 Earth's perishing souls, and wasting lives and 
 
 hopes ! 
 His feet unhasting in their speed. His hands 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 69 
 
 Unurgent of their rescue, had been pierced 
 By painfuller nails ; His heart unthrobbing 
 
 whilst 
 They perished miserably, had felt a spear 
 More poignant ; and His head unmindful how 
 To rescue, had been pressed by thornier thorns 
 Of disencrowning crown ! 
 
 " O, for sweet Christ 
 This thought, this hope, was His most infinite 
 
 joy- 
 
 For Him, for Me, easy to bear what bonds 
 Would set My children free. New triumphs 
 
 ours — 
 To enter into sad Humanity ; 
 To feel and heal its burdens and its sins ; 
 So only most divine ! Once scoffers said : 
 ' Others He saved, Himself He could not save.' 
 The wretched falsehood true! Far firmlier 
 
 was 
 He pinioned to that Cross by love than those 
 Three merciless spikes. Nor man, nor God,' is 
 
 free, 
 Save in the larger freedom found in bonds 
 Of love. He must die. Choice was His, and 
 
 not. 
 One is your Master, Man, e'en Christ ; and He 
 Hath His true Master, even Love. Ay, since 
 Both He and Love be one, He is, Himself, 
 Servant and Master, both, and either free 
 
70 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 As other well obeyed. Not to save men 
 "Were to deny Himself ; and whosoe'er 
 Denies Him loseth heaven — be he who 
 He may ! Such sacrifice unasked ! Nor would, 
 Nor could He spare Himself the tears, the 
 
 tomb, 
 The tortures of the Garden and the Tree. 
 Others He saved, Himself He could not 
 
 save ! 
 
 "Others He saved. Himself He could not 
 
 save ! 
 While to that wood the coarse nails held Him 
 
 fast. 
 The great globe angrily did pull on Him, 
 Tearing yet more those kind alms-laden palms. 
 O, all earth's gravities did draw on Him ; 
 The wooded mountains where He oft had 
 
 prayed ; 
 The fertile fields His feet had glorified ; 
 The wrathful sea He calmed ; — all drew on 
 
 Him! 
 No flower whose graceful beauty He had 
 
 preached 
 Most gracious sermon from but drew on Him ; 
 No ailing frame He'd gladdened with new 
 
 health. 
 Or surprised vision of the sun, or sound 
 Of friendly voices, but now drew on Him; 
 The very winds, inspired with joy, that sped 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL ji 
 
 Fast round the world, perfumed with breath 
 
 of love, 
 Freighted with benedictions, drew on Him, 
 All the great Globe did angrily draw on Him, 
 Tearing so sore those kind alms-laden palms ! 
 
 " Ay, this He minded not. But on Him ground 
 The sins and sorrows of My Children, That 
 Nigh passed endurance of His sensitive soul. 
 The thought of earth's deep penetrative sin. 
 Her multitudinous woes ; so though the large 
 Diviner Spirit in Him His true prayer 
 Essayed, ' Nevertheless, My Father, not 
 My will, but Thine be done ' ; the man-heart 
 
 cried, 
 ' If possible, let this cup pass from Me ! ' 
 Not sin in Him, — such broken-heartedness ! 
 No sob of infant, not one dungeon groan. 
 Not one hair-whitening fright, not one outcry 
 Of despoiled purity, not one great heave 
 Of heart for rest, not one impassioned prayer 
 For pardon, not one frenzied shriek from 
 
 midst 
 Hot lustful flames, not one low-sighed com- 
 plaint. 
 But drew on Him ! The mighty anguishes 
 Of armed hosts battalioned 'gainst or for 
 The Wrong, did draw on Him ! The pomp of 
 
 pride. 
 The lusts of fleshliness, the heartlessness 
 
72 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Of hate, the brave souls vanquished fool- 
 ishly, 
 Long ages of oppression, aeons drunk 
 With strife ; O, these did draw on Him ! 
 For this became He Son of Man. In Him 
 No comeliness ; no beauty to desire ; 
 Of men despised, rejected, One with grief 
 Acquaint ; from whom their face was hid, and 
 
 Mine ! 
 Smitten of Me, they deemed ; but wounded 
 
 deep 
 For their transgressions ; and His chastise- 
 ment 
 Their peace ; His stripes their health ; on Him 
 
 by Me 
 Were laid the iniquities of all. He bare 
 The sins of many ; for transgressors prayed. 
 O, all this world did angrily draw on Him, 
 Tearing so sore those kind alms-laden palms ! " 
 
 " O My Father! O My Father! 
 
 Dark death hath o'ertaken Me! 
 Press Me sore earth's sins and sorrows, 
 
 Why hast Thou forsaken Me ? " 
 Lo, the Son of God outcrying 
 
 In an infinite distress; 
 '0 0£6<i fiou, '0 ^ed? /lou,* 
 
 El? Tc /J.£ iykariXnte? ; 
 
 * " H6, The6s mou, Ho, The6s mou, 
 Els ti m^ngkat^lipes ? " 
 St. Mark's Aramaic for St. Matthew's Greek of our 
 Saviour's "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken 
 Me?" 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 73 
 
 " O My Father! O My Father! 
 
 Why hast Thou forsaken Me ? ' ' 
 Wake, my Soul, from slumber waken, 
 
 To this Cry quick waken thee! 
 In day's midnight cries an Anguish, 
 
 That may crave thy kind caress; 
 '0 8e6<; fioUj '0 Oe6<} P-ou^ 
 
 Jesu! Jesu! To Thy bosom 
 
 Thou hast often taken me; 
 To my heart I clasp Thee, bind Thee; 
 
 Who could have forsaken Thee ? 
 In Thy Father's hiding hide Thee, 
 
 In Thine own strong tenderness! 
 '0 Oeo^ /J^ou, '0 8e6<i fjLou, 
 
 Ei<s Ti fie kykariXi-Kt^ ; 
 
 Lord, on me let fall this darkness, 
 
 Let Thine angers break on me; 
 In Thy mercy for His mercy 
 
 Let not Love forsaken be ! 
 Not for His sake, 'tis for my sake 
 
 Cries He in divine distress; 
 
 El<; Tt fie iykarikiTze^^ 
 
 VI 
 
 "Yet ne'er so pleased, ne'er so triumphant 
 
 He 
 As in dear thought of this great Sacrifice. 
 And ne'er such anthemed praise among the 
 
 ranks 
 Of heaven beholding. Shall the infinite 
 Be added to ? And yet more golden shone 
 
74 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 The golden throne ; more glorious glowed all 
 
 round 
 The infinite splendor ; more seraphic grew 
 Seraphic song ; diviner seemed My own 
 Eternal reign ! 
 
 " O Children of My love, 
 To you looks He for recompense. • Yours 
 
 now 
 The power, the honor, to enrich the Christ 
 Who for you made Himself so poor. Almost 
 Exchange of Godhead makes He with you! 
 
 He 
 To you prostrates Himself in prayer for aid, 
 And love, and life ! Behold, those wounded 
 
 hands 
 "Will heal, if ye but let them bind your wounds ! 
 Those bleeding feet will bleed no more, if ye 
 Will bid them on glad errands speed for your 
 Deliverance ! That pierced, bleeding brow, 
 If ye but press it with your penitent kiss, 
 Will feel reviving pressure of a crown 
 Divine ! That grieved, sin-stabbed heart will 
 
 feel 
 No anguish more, nay, but will throb with 
 
 joy 
 
 Unknown before, if ye will let one drop 
 Of its life-giving blood fall on your woe ! 
 Let Love have love ; let Life give life once 
 more ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 75 
 
 " And so contented I with His most sweet 
 Content, most passionate passion, for men to 
 
 die. 
 Perchance the world at thought of Christ's 
 
 pure love ; 
 Perchance the world at sight of My deep grief ; 
 Perchance in keen compassion for our tears ; 
 Perchance shocked into bitter penitence 
 At thought that into Deity they drave 
 The instruments of pain whose inmost life 
 And power were immanent, conscious, loving 
 
 God; 
 Perchance reflecting how in all earth's sins 
 My woes were greater than the woes of men ; 
 How I, e'en I, all life pervasive through, 
 Am hard coerced by mutinous man's caprice 
 Into a confraternity of ill ; — 
 Perchance by this the world's rough conscience 
 
 shall 
 Be moved, shall pity My sore pity, grow 
 In love with love, learn the sweet painlessness 
 Of pain in kindness borne, the strong life 
 
 gained 
 When strongly given, the worth of wealth 
 
 well-won. 
 The world cast off more affluently gained. 
 The boomerang quality of charity, 
 Inflows of God with outflows of good-will. 
 My Christ hath made His best investments 
 
 here! 
 
76 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " Nature, pray weep no more, nor thou, nor I. 
 This sumptuous love earns sumptuous reward. 
 Christ of the travail of His soul shall see, 
 And be well satisfied. This earth, so much 
 Forgiven, shall love much, when from its 
 
 sin 
 Rebounding it shall stand for glorious Christ ; 
 Ay, Nature, and for thee ! My final thought 
 Thou may'st not know. Said not my Well- 
 Beloved : 
 * Of that day and that hour knoweth no man, 
 No, not the angels who so deep things see. 
 Neither the Son, only the Father ' ? Lo, 
 So must it be ; the days, the deeds, the plans. 
 Of Mine be many that archangels seek 
 In vain to comprehend. Zophar said right : 
 ' Eloah's secret, canst thou find it out ? ^'^ 
 Or Shaddai's perfect way canst thou explain ? 
 Higher than heaven's height, what canst thou 
 
 do? 
 Deeper than Sheol's depths, what canst thou 
 
 know ? 
 Its measurement is longer than the earth, 
 And broader than the sea ! ' 
 
 "Meanwhile, thy work, 
 Dear Nature, trustfully and patiently 
 Pursue. Thou hast done well. At earliest 
 
 dawn 
 Of thy creation I pronounced thee good ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 77 
 
 And such I call thee still, though harsh abused. 
 Be brave. In larger hope toil on. Thou yet 
 Shalt be of thy great travail satisfied ! 
 
 " And 3'^e, My Children, whom with joy I see, 
 From distant star-homes gazing at this Cross 
 With wonderment such as not stirred you e'en 
 In lordlier lands of far superior spheres ; 
 Amazed ye be at Man's dread sin that slew 
 My One-Begotten, Well-Beloved Son ; 
 Amazed ye be at Nature's grief and Mine ; 
 Amazed ye be no direful judgments fall 
 Upon this most ungenerous race, this most 
 Inhuman (or, since man alone hath sinned 
 Below, such way, let's say most human) sin ! 
 But some unutterable day ye shall 
 My permit have to visit Earth again ; 
 Then with a more amazed amazement shall 
 Ye gaze on what My Ransom-Love hath 
 
 wrought ; 
 Then see Love's power an old world to renew, 
 Making cold death to tingle into life. 
 Darkness to quiver and quicken into light ; 
 Sea-depths uplifted continents of joy. 
 Deep pits of hell exalted heights of praise ! 
 
 " Listen, O Nature, and ye, bright Spirits, soon 
 T' ascend to your well-earned home ; and ye, 
 O Sons of Men, who indistinctly catch 
 My words divine ; hear ye what Earth hath yet 
 
78 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 In store from Me, of Me. Then, My thought 
 
 told, 
 If song or prayer shall in your bosoms move. 
 Pour forth in holy phrase what suits your 
 
 mood ; 
 Let singing music surge from singing soul ; 
 Perchance poor earth shall hear and join the 
 
 praise ; 
 Or, better than be singer, be a song ; 
 Yea, Singer be, and sung-of, and the song, 
 A Song strong and full-rounded, sounding 
 
 'mong 
 Astonished, rapturous worlds, great worlds of 
 
 worlds ! 
 Then worlds in worlds, commingling won- 
 
 drously. 
 Shall know the sacred touch and thrill, — as 
 
 though 
 They felt His garment's healing hem ; and 
 
 worlds 
 So distant the impetuous light almost 
 Grows tired of wing on the long pauseless 
 
 flight. 
 Shall throb with jubilees that well-nigh match 
 The exultant praise eternal round My throne ! 
 
 "Here justified is justice, satisfied 
 
 Are love and law; here righteousness and 
 
 peace 
 Have kissed ; the Infinite hath once for all, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 79 
 
 All times and worlds, made ample sacrifice ; 
 Incarna '.e, once for all, the Son divine. 
 * Life of my life ! ' cries suffering man to Me ; 
 ' Life of My life ! ' I grateful call to Him. 
 All this one vast Eternal Deed, the Cross ! 
 Fountain whence living waters flow for all 
 That thirst ! Kiver of Life knowing no final 
 
 sea ! 
 True Banyan-tree of Life with branches spread 
 O'er all the earth and all the worlds ; its leaves 
 The nations healing, its fruits as various 
 As months of heaven's unending years ! City 
 Of God, wide opened on each stately side 
 Its triple gates, whence march love-armed hosts 
 To bring the rescued ones within from all 
 The bloody battle-fields of sin ! Never 
 May man nor angel know the length, the 
 
 breadth, 
 The height, the depth, of purposes divine. 
 
 " But this I tell ye ; now this poor hurt 
 
 world 
 Lies hard asleep, all heedless of the wealth 
 Of this rich sacrifice, and the huge wrong 
 That agonized the skies. Dead now it lies 
 To all that presses, pierces us, yet thrills 
 Us with strange bliss. But other spheres in 
 
 part 
 Shall apprehend, and they, the unconscious 
 
 earth 
 
8o THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Low bending o'er, shall sing their ecstasy 
 Into her ear of sleep, from dreams confused 
 To wake her to this most godlikest love 
 Mere myriad burning worlds might not make 
 clear ! 
 
 VII 
 
 " Meanwhile, O Nature, 'tis not ours to mind 
 These passing struggles of the Earth ; they be 
 With perils fraught, yet with sure victory ; 
 So hath My will ordained. Sooner My throne 
 Shall tumble down than right by wrong be 
 
 slain. 
 Earth's birth-pangs but presage her mother- 
 
 " Hast yet forgot the story of this globe, 
 In that far distant Ichthyosaurian time, 
 Ere yet Orion gracious smiled on Earth, 
 Or Southern Cross the Southern zone pre- 
 ferred, <*) 
 Or the Great Bear growled at the Northern 
 
 Pole, 
 Or the North Star attained the Magnet- 
 throne ? 
 These troublous times of incompletenesses 
 And woes and sins are like those ancient 
 
 years 
 When coarse uncouthness gave no gracious 
 sign 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 8i 
 
 Of the sweet loveliness we planned to be ; 
 When ghastly reptiles thronged the dismal 
 
 seas ; 
 And birds were reptiles ; ay, the birds, the 
 
 birds 
 "Were reptiles, lighting in the shrinking 
 
 boughs, 
 Filling the air with hisses and with fright, 
 With scream and screak; unpromiseful eggs 
 
 of birds 
 Of beauty and of song ; strange prophecies 
 Of happy-throated bobolink ; of lark 
 Impatient of the tarrying morn ; of dove 
 So softly murmuring her love that he 
 Of quaintest, sweetest, lyric fantasy, 
 My Herbert, prayed ' her golden wings on him 
 Might rest, hatching his tender heart so long 
 Till it got wing to fly away with her ; ' 
 Strange prophecies of My fair birds of flight, 
 That in their beauty, song, bold sweep of 
 
 wing, ' ' 
 
 And joy in ever mounting upward, most 
 Of all My creatures teach My Children be 
 Like angels pauseless in ascent and praise ! 
 
 " Yet, Nature, not disheartened wast thou 
 
 then. 
 Age after age more beauteous grew the earth, 
 And fairer flowers flushed o'er the fairer fields, 
 And seemlier fishes swam serener seas, 
 
82 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 And birds of joy and plumage beautiful 
 Gladdened the incense-laden air with song ; 
 While nobler beasts grazed on the knolls of 
 
 green. 
 Dreadful the earthquakes of those pristine 
 
 days; 
 Horrid the yawning chasms, hoarse the roar 
 Of warring winds and waves, and fierce the 
 
 shock 
 When, mountain clasping mountain, both slid 
 
 off 
 Into -th' engulfing sea ; too deafening 
 For men to live, or living hear M}'^ voice ! 
 The giant cliffs raised their proud heads, and 
 
 dared 
 The lightning strike so high. Volcanic heights 
 Held heavenward their fire-filled chalices 
 In savage sacrament ! Dismal the mists 
 That would not tolerate the generous sun, 
 Nor let him hang across the firmament 
 The crimson clouds to greet his dawn, or 
 
 make 
 His setting noble. O, though all the stars 
 Did beg to gaze upon this infant globe. 
 Though the grand heavens all round bent low 
 
 to bless 
 Her with their smile, she would not draw 
 
 aside 
 Her darkening veil ; — symbol how in these 
 
 days 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 83 
 
 The Sun of Righteousness so oft in vain 
 Attempts to warm and light the darkness 
 
 here ! 
 How frowned those old years on the new 
 
 bright Earth 
 I had in mind ! 
 
 " Yet, Nature, well know we 
 How through our patient care and gentle might 
 The darkness slow relaxed her clasp, and bade 
 The firraamental host draw nigh and bless. 
 The jagged rock-heights wild by many a storm 
 Were beaten, till adown their steeps to dark 
 Abysmal deeps and soundless seas they poured 
 Their offerings for rich valleys yet to be. 
 Meanwhile the towering peaks, so terrible, 
 White glittering spires of a cathedral world 
 Became, to which the clouds sweet incense 
 
 brought 
 From reverent fields ; or like the pious doves 
 Gathered from every quarter of the sky 
 To rest and worship ! Strange how smoke 
 
 and steam 
 And fogs that once barred out the sun, now 
 
 turned 
 To give most welcome greeting ; and alert 
 Now wrought the long refused light to forms 
 And hues of splendor infinite ! The growth 
 Of ancient fens and forests died, whence 
 
 sprang 
 
84 THE D I FINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 A richer sylvan wealth ; and the black mould 
 Became the treasury of seonic light, 
 To serve the arts and industries and homes 
 Of these more princely times ; the fires of 
 
 those 
 Prehuman days warming and lighting up 
 The world for His resplendent Coming, who 
 The Light of Life, the Lord of Glory, is ! 
 The scolded weeds entangling bush and plain. 
 Dying, enriched the soils for centuries 
 More tranquil, and for worthier, wealthier 
 
 lives. 
 
 " A myraid forms consented thus to die ; 
 
 The very names by which they called them- 
 selves 
 
 Men do not know. Unknown they breathed, 
 expired ; 
 
 Their beauty and fair fragrance unperceived 
 
 Except by thee and Me. Some, lingering 
 still. 
 
 Adorn and beautify the earth which then 
 
 Unconscious lived upon their wealth. I tell 
 
 Thee, Nature, thou must know I love these 
 weeds 
 
 Of long gone times ; flowers then, weeds now, 
 harsh spurned 
 
 By men, stamped down, uprooted, killed, 
 cursed, burned, — 
 
 I loved, I love them still ! All lonesome then 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 85 
 
 "Was earth. E'en I was lonely here ; no lives 
 Then growing up toward heavenhood; but 
 
 these 
 Did smile, and offer Me their frankincense ; 
 And willing lived to perish. They lived and 
 
 died 
 Unknown at first ; were afterward by men 
 Despised and slain. My primal martyr-flow- 
 ers, 
 To make more fit the world for years to 
 
 come, 
 Lived, bloomed and died so men might happier 
 
 thrive ; 
 So other flowers might be more beautiful. 
 And have more praise, and sweeter homes of 
 
 love, 
 And cheer the couch of pain and bruised 
 
 hearts 
 That, healed, would have no patience with 
 
 base weeds ! 
 ' Base weeds ! ' Types they of Him whom 
 
 most I love, 
 A tender Plant grown out of desert ground, 
 Despised of men, from whom they turn the 
 
 face; 
 A "Weed ! so deemed, yet verily Tree of Life, 
 "Whose eager branches bear whate'er of 
 
 strength 
 Or sweetness blesses man or glorifies 
 Fair worlds 1 
 
86 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " Those misinterpreted, those crude, 
 Suggestive years I loved, love now, and shall. 
 Much perished then ; much died leaving no 
 
 sign; 
 Beauty corroded ; frankincense of flowers 
 Grew rancid ; brave life died ; fires wanton 
 
 burned ; 
 "Wild waters drowned; fierce earthquakes 
 
 buried deep 
 Herculean strength that seemed too huge to 
 
 die. 
 Nor deem unworthy purpose served such life ! 
 The jointure of My carpentr}'- ever fits. 
 Life makes her own environments, and oft 
 By them is made. The eyeless habitants 
 Of waters cavernous and dark spend not 
 Their one long night in conscious dismal- 
 
 ness ; 
 But revelling in the coolness, the soft touch 
 Of springs, the sense of featly mobileness, 
 The exquisite witchery of dash and coup, 
 The venture of untried, mock-threatening 
 
 pools, — 
 With such delights, by dear companionships 
 Made dearer, these bright children of the 
 
 gloom 
 Thank Me they are, and are their own glad 
 
 selves ; 
 And wonder how queer creatures stand the 
 
 glare 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 87 
 
 Of sun, or breathe in waterless air, or dare 
 The skyward flight, or aught whate'er survives 
 Unshone on by the dark ! 
 
 " So in far asons 
 Earth's rugged beasts their rugged pleasures 
 
 found 
 In bog and brake, in ooze and sodden air. 
 In mountains live with earthquakes, oceans 
 
 swept 
 By wind terror-inspired and lightning-whipped ! 
 They fed on storms ! Monsters were they ; 
 
 monstrous 
 Were their regalements ; in these quiet times 
 They might not live, missing the massive roar 
 Of vengeful thunders, flashing flights of flame 
 That denser made the dark ! Their purpose 
 
 served 
 They well. Most real their joy, though wild 
 
 and weird. 
 Even the mountains and deep gulfs and seas 
 Did almost conscious thrill. Nor this all. 
 
 Deep 
 Foundations then were laid for loftier years. 
 Life died that life might multiply. The graves 
 Of ancient centuries became cradles 
 For these. Their groans are resurrection calls 
 These hear, and rise to immortality. 
 That which thou so west is not quickened save 
 It die. I love, I bless, what dies so else 
 
88 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 May thrive. Scarce could I bear that what 
 
 was oft 
 So fragrant, rich-hued, or e'en barbarous, 
 Should not have straighter, choicer use, than 
 
 serve 
 As mouldering compost for more delicate 
 
 growth. 
 
 "But with such sweetness of content the weeds 
 Did grow ; and with such merry fin and wing 
 My primal creatures sprang through wind and 
 
 wave; 
 And with such bearing, quite majestical. 
 My brave brutes trod the quagmires and the 
 
 crags ; 
 All patient with their crude times and rude 
 
 selves ; 
 Successive races glad of death and grave. 
 So earth might fruitf uller be of fruitfuller lives 
 And hopes ; O Nature, I did love, and bless 
 Them ! They to Me have been old rugged type 
 And symbol of the sacrificial Love 
 Fragrant and fair, so gentle, so robust, 
 That with the wicked sought a grave, where- 
 
 from 
 A world's redeemed Humanity might rise I 
 
 VIII 
 
 " So, Nature, in the war, the woe, the sin, 
 The crudenesses and rudenesses we see 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 89 
 
 This day among the Sons of Men, have hope ! 
 Much evil grows, to perish as by fire. 
 Its ashes mellowing and enriching times 
 To be ; far more, a myriad-fold shall I 
 Convert and save. Much seeming ill is but 
 Ill-understood ! Would'st think to find in eggs 
 Fair-plumaged birds, with power of flight and 
 
 song? 
 Plows, swords, harps, minstrelsies, evangels, 
 
 wide 
 Civilizations, in the ochrous ore ? 
 The Night is dark, — it has not time to shine ; 
 'Tis busy manufacturing Day ! Sometimes 
 The Day is dark, abstractly planning how 
 To make the morrow worthier ! In strange 
 Confusions, order wise men may divine, — 
 Apocalypses in the bitter bud 1 
 
 " The acrid nut of law is germ of woods 
 That I shall build My temples of. Good use 
 Shall pain, and sin, and the deep mysteries 
 
 serve. 
 That surge in devastating waves o'er all 
 The sea of life. Just as the potencies 
 Of wind, wave, refluent tide, now wasting 
 
 strength 
 On rock and wreck, shall grind the grain and 
 
 whirl 
 The wheels of trade, shame braggart thunder- 
 storms, 
 
90 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Unlocking world-fulls of electric stores, 
 The products multifolding of a glad 
 And multifolded race ! What seems most ill 
 Shall yet good purpose serve. Like men's 
 
 tide-mills 
 'Long shore. The sea goes out, comes in ; the 
 
 same 
 Wheels turn ; they grind the same, which way 
 
 soe'er 
 The swell ; I cross the bands ; and, ebb or flow 
 The tides, they grind My grist of grace. 
 
 " Nature, 
 These days are our primeval o'er again ; 
 With fog and darkness fighting against light ; 
 Ungainly growths, and hard, grim forms of 
 
 life ; 
 Great wastes of force and beauty ; tears are 
 
 here ; 
 Eyes oft sore weep as did the ancient skies 
 That daily drenched the ground. Huge crimes 
 
 stalk forth ; 
 Big human pterodactyls, bird, beast, bat 
 In one, infesting field and air and sea 
 With violence and fright ; long ages filled 
 With desolation and with doom. But know, 
 O Nature, not in vain My power and grace. 
 The dank and miasmatic fogs My Love, 
 Whereof earth's glowing sun is scanty type. 
 Shall lift asky to make more radiant heavens, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 91 
 
 Over them pouring all effulgences ; 
 
 As though the molten riches of My mines 
 
 Had goldened and deep-rainbowed them ; 
 
 orange, 
 Vermilion, argent, azure, emerald, 
 Soft opalescences with angel-blush 1 
 A myriad rainbows hide within a tear. 
 What shall the splendors be when I shall say : 
 ' O Clouds of earth, hear God ! Your treas- 
 ured Day 
 Unlock ! The rich life-light in darkness deep 
 Ye hide, bring forth ! From lake and wide- 
 spread plain, 
 Long rising, shine ye forth in majesties 
 Of light ; shine till these arched splendors 
 
 pale. 
 And the proud sun before your glories fades ! ' 
 
 " Nature ; exult, rejoice ; all shall be well. 
 
 To Me, to thee, let Evil threaten Good! 
 
 Old wildernesses wood-entangled, rank 
 
 With mire, shall the more fertile prove. 
 Mayhap 
 
 Our wilderness shall blossom like the rose ; 
 
 New forms of use and beauty shall spring 
 forth ; 
 
 Sharp mountain peaks altars of prayer be- 
 come; 
 
 Already in the desert kneels My Son ! 
 
 Jf hearts be cold and lives be rude and wrong, 
 
92 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 If passing ills oppress and well-nigh crush 
 The Good, bethink thee how hard glacial days 
 Again move, grating, grinding o'er the globe, 
 Planing the mountains down, rich vales to fill, 
 Compounding strange deposits of all types 
 Evolved through ages into one rich soil 
 Exultant in fertility, wherein 
 My precious plants of righteousness shall 
 thrive ! 
 
 " What a renowned world shall we yet make, 
 O Earth, through patient law, thou and My- 
 self 
 Through grace ! What glad surprises. What 
 
 new births 
 Of things base-born. Great enemies, great 
 
 friends. 
 Low, boorish envies, and hard hates to love 
 Converted ; long, distressful bondages 
 To freedom ; fears to bold, adventuring faith ; 
 Weapons of war to proud artilleries 
 Of peace ; the thunders of thy frowning skies. 
 And more dread thunders of grand battle- 
 storms. 
 To earth-engirdling Hallelujahs ! All 
 Shall yet be well. My permit of earth's ill 
 Is (thou shalt see) intended back-thrust fell 
 Of My strong hand, to deal the weightier blow 
 To sin in all the world, in all the World 
 Of worlds I 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 93 
 
 " But, Nature, thou with Man must bide 
 Thy time ; and thine shall be when his ; and 
 
 both 
 When Christ's. On, as I bade thee ; do thine 
 
 own 
 Task well ; Man his ; I Mine. Mark what 
 
 hath been ! 
 
 IX 
 
 " First the great Christ incarnate was in thee ; 
 Through Holy Ghost, by Him, by Me, sent 
 
 forth. 
 Coequal all, eternal. One True Soul ; 
 Of All that is, most inmost Soul and Life ! 
 First, then, My Christ incarnate was in thee ; 
 The invisible things of Him most clearly seen 
 Since the Creation, even eternal power 
 And Godhead ; He in all deep immament. 
 No wonder stars so bright and wakeful night 
 By night, and growth so quick, the universe 
 So instant and responsive to My will ; 
 No wonder, filled with Him, thy life no 
 
 bounds 
 Would know of art and enterprise ; 
 No end of creature shapes and upward trend ; 
 New senses born to match each new-born 
 
 time ; 
 An infinite dissatisfiedness 
 Thine only rest ; each choicest product prest 
 By its own nature to outdo itself ; 
 
94 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Leaping to wider range and finer forms, 
 More varied sensibilities and use ! 
 No marvel, filled, fired, animate with Him, 
 The throb and quiver of his strong heart-beats 
 Are felt by all, atoms and spheres the same. 
 O, not far wrong, who on thy bosom sleep, 
 And pleased dream they note the pulse of 
 
 God; 
 Ah, might men's souls in glad accord but 
 
 beat ! 
 
 " Not undevout, but Christful primal Days ! 
 The mountains were proud symbols of His 
 
 might ; 
 The seas of depths and widenesses of love ; 
 The arching skies of His o'er bending care ; 
 The snows of His pure spotlessness that was 
 In later times to mantle earth's dark lands. 
 All graceful forms did signify his art 
 And th' infinite fairness of His sovereign soul. 
 He immanent life of all ; bees hum His 
 
 praise ; 
 Birds carol it ; flowers, perfumed sunbeams, 
 
 set 
 Themselves t' interpret His rare beauty ; 
 
 gems, 
 And quaint hoar-frosts, and fleecy flakes of 
 
 snow 
 That swirl unfearing down the frowning sk}'', 
 Their crystalline forms assume, merry 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 95 
 
 "With thought of Him ; all elements so bent 
 On seeing, hearing, pleasing, holding Him, 
 As oft to gather into living shapes 
 So small, monads might use their microscopes 
 To watch them, as with nimble wings they 
 
 fly, 
 
 With eager and unsleeping eyes seek Him 
 In whom all live and move and being have ! 
 And so to Me the heavens and the earth 
 Be infinitely dear, because My Child 
 Did frame them ; lo, His finger-marks I see ; 
 Ah, they be filled with Christ-work, and with 
 Him! 
 
 " But He nor I therewith full satisfied. 
 In beauty, strength, and many a gloriousness 
 And use, the ancient earth did please Me well. 
 My creatures had keen sense and joy of 
 
 things ; 
 My reptiles sought the soothing slums for 
 
 sleep ; 
 My fishes whirled among the eddying pools 
 And from the sunshine made their shields of 
 
 sheen ; 
 My birds knew their soft robes were beautiful, 
 Singing, or loud or low, love-lays to mates 
 "Well pleased with such fine wooing. My 
 
 brave beasts 
 Did love the frolics of their haunts, the chase. 
 The verdant pastures of the pensive plain. 
 
96 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 O, e'en My plants their own dear conscious- 
 ness 
 
 Did lialf surmise, and mimicked things that 
 thought ; 
 
 And from dim dens stole out into the light ; 
 
 Or felt the covering of the night and closed 
 
 The darkness out ; or shrank with terror when 
 
 The thunders rode the tempests down the hills. 
 
 But He nor I therewith full satisfied. 
 
 " Largely of self their thought ; of others 
 
 naught, 
 Save as the parent instinct towards its young 
 Drew forth that fondness which so anciently 
 Foretokened My paternal care for all 
 Mine offspring. Other altruistic sense 
 Than this they knew not, save that love akin, 
 Which in the nursing time made each Sir 
 
 Brute 
 Provider and defender of fair Spouse 
 Unto the final morsel, the last drop ; 
 That life-love whence all generations spring. 
 Else this, desire but for their several selves ; 
 Nor dream of wider love, or life, or hope ; 
 Nor dream of dream concerning Him who 
 
 made 
 Them. Sad, no eye deeper to see, nor mind 
 The world's composite service to discern. 
 Nor power divine the power divine to know ! 
 Grateful to Me the morning incense sweet 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 97 
 
 Of fields a-flower ; all creatures I had formed 
 In themselves happy, in their spheres content; 
 But not enough that to Mine eyes, and those 
 Of angels, and of such as 'mongst all worlds 
 Do travel, all this admirable sphere 
 Should manifest be. E'en I love not to gaze 
 Into blind, witless, unresponsive eyes ; 
 But such as look glad back into Mine own ; 
 To happy whom My works clear mirror God. 
 O, if Creation may but see, feel, taste, 
 Hear, know, love. Me ! Thus shines dim earth 
 divine ! 
 
 "Then said "We: 'Let us Man make in our 
 
 image. 
 After our likeness ! Wide dominion shall 
 He have o'er all that dwell on earth.' Then "We 
 In our own likeness him created. Thus 
 Incarnate Christ anew, breathing His breath 
 Of life immortal into that fine form. 
 Upright, the noblest, Nature, I gave thee ; 
 Form of that beauty and majestic grace 
 I from long time had loved to meditate. 
 In outline-type whereof all life I made ; 
 Above all higher than noon-sun o'er main. 
 Above the brute, as I higher than he ! 
 
 "Two spheres aflame right face to face see 
 
 not 
 Each other ; no inquiry make whence came 
 
98 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 They ; how their brothers left, or whither 
 
 bound ; 
 They bump full-drive together, spattering 
 
 stars ^^^ 
 Blood-red all o'er the heavenly floor, or clasp 
 In hot embrace such as oft heats dead worlds 
 To life ! J^or know they be afire ; nor have 
 
 one fear 
 What conflagrations dire they spread through 
 
 heaven ; 
 "Worlds with less brain than some lone ant-hill 
 
 holds ; 
 "Worlds whose immeasurable seons e'en 
 My weakest saintly child shall long outlive ! 
 
 " Men ! "Worlds ! 'Twas a mere child, an 
 
 old man's wares 
 Of lenses handling, placed two bits to the 
 
 eye,— 
 And cried : ' O Grandfather ! I see the hour 
 0' the clock on yonder steeple ! ' Of which fact 
 One learning soon (one who in Pisa's Duomo 
 From the dim candles of her swinging lamp 
 Had got sunlight for the science of his day. 
 And taught earth's gravities beat time for 
 
 men ; 
 And from the mystic Tower — as though for 
 
 this 
 The years had made it heavily lean — dropped 
 
 stones 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 99 
 
 That 'gainst the learned Stagy rite's teaching, 
 
 proved 
 One mighty law of thine, Nature), this man 
 From trifling, vulgar and eye-blinding dust. 
 Such as himself was formed of, made a lens 
 Of clearness crystalline through which from 
 
 deep 
 Dark voids strange visions of star-splendor 
 
 shone ! 
 Dust looked through dust ; and at earth's mid- 
 night saw 
 Brave Morning stride across the Moon's dark 
 
 disk, 
 Planting his silver feet on her high Alps ! 
 Behold, about yon belted planet played 
 At hide and seek his surprised satellites ! 
 He looked the kingly Sun straight in the face, 
 And said he saw black blots upon his cheek ; 
 Withal his virtues not unspotted he ! 
 In the star-peopled sky each shining one 
 He bade approach, and none might in the 
 
 dark 
 Or distance hide, or hie so headlongly 
 As for an instant flee beyond his ken. 
 No marvel all My worlds fly everywhither 
 Precipitate, o'ertoppling as they speed 
 In multitudinous race from human eyes, 
 Eyes with acute omniscient sense endued. 
 Dust looks through dust at dust ; and thereby 
 
 proves 
 L.of G. 
 
ioo THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 'Tis not dust, but true Soul ! Lo, Earth's 
 poor dust — 
 
 A few stones' weight thereof — inbreathed, in- 
 dwelt, 
 
 By My Life-Spirit, outweighs, outshines, out- 
 climbs. 
 
 Outwits, outlasts, the star-dust of the heavens, 
 
 Though each star-atom be a blazing sun ! 
 
 " Strange history his, which. Nature, thou 
 
 need'st not 
 I tell ; since from Time's distant dawn. 
 When thou on thy young mother-breasts 
 
 fondly 
 Did'st suckle him, and on this pendulous 
 
 planet. 
 The primal cradle, thou did'st softly rock 
 His babyhood, his errant wa3'^s thou hast 
 "Well-known ; his strong self-will, his haughty 
 
 pride 
 His sad mistraining of rich inborn tastes 
 To gluttonies, his unwise forfeitures 
 Of what was best from heaven, in earth, him- 
 self. 
 O, if the ruins be so gorgeous, what 
 The glory of the temple into which 
 Was builded all the best of feeling, art. 
 Experience, wisdom, wealth and worth of 
 
 aeons 1 
 The proud creation's peerless masterpiece, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL loi 
 
 Endowed with full free choice to die or live, 
 To brighten heaven or more dark make hell, 
 To be My son, or dare to be My foe ; 
 And being such, a foe worth having as friend ! 
 Ah, had he though but wiselier, greatlier 
 
 dared 
 Against the tempter's taunts and jibes to stand 
 Upon his manhood and his Godhead too ! 
 Ah, then he had out-angeled angelhood ! 
 
 " Then the great Christ appeared, in human 
 
 form 
 Yet image express of Godhead, Heir of All, 
 Greater than heir of things and worlds and 
 
 times, 
 Heir of not Mine alone but inmost Me. 
 In the beginning was the Word, the Word 
 Was with God, and the Word was God. The 
 
 same 
 In the beginning was with God. All things 
 Were made by Him. In Him was Life, and 
 
 the Life 
 Was the Light of men. The Love, Life, Light 
 
 be One ; 
 True Trinity of Father, Spirit, Son. 
 And the Light loved Darkness and thus made 
 
 it bright. 
 And the Life loved Death and gave it second 
 
 birth, 
 
102 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 And the Love loved Man redeeming him to 
 
 God; 
 And Love, Light, Life did take and mould 
 
 them all 
 Into the humble, sovereign, human, godlike 
 
 Christ ! 
 Then, not enough He should be heir of Mine, 
 He shall be heir of poor man's sins and woes, 
 And thereby heir of the "World's love at last ! 
 
 " In Him all life is penetrate anew 
 With Me ; life of new life ; ennobling all ; 
 My Branch engraft on sad Humanity, 
 So it the holy fruits of heaven may bear ; 
 Born in the flesh so wretched man may be 
 Born in the Spirit. He would feel the thrill 
 Of human pain, so men in turn might know 
 The thrill of love divine ! Incarnate He 
 In that grand Galilean form, so touch 
 More close to every joy and pain and sin 
 Of earth ; in all points tempted as men be, 
 Yet without sin. Thus Mediator meet, 
 Interpreting to Godhead man, to man 
 Interpreting My pardoning love and grace ! 
 
 " Well spake My star-child here that of such 
 
 Life 
 Most sacred, the profound and broad intent 
 None may conceive. How many radii 
 May from a centre branch ; or tangents stretch 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 103 
 
 From one small circle? Say how many 
 planes 
 
 Lie on a sphere ? How many queries one may 
 raise 
 
 About an atom, and an atom ask 
 
 About a star? Let each mind speak his 
 thought ; 
 
 Each may have truth ; yet each hath fault who 
 claims 
 
 His own the only true. Saith one : ' The light 
 
 Is white.' Correct. Another : ' Ked.' Cor- 
 rect. 
 
 Another : ' It is yellow.' Also true. 
 
 But who says : ' Only this,' or ' that ; ' speaks 
 false. 
 
 Deny not all in One, and One in all ! 
 
 My wide and wise Creation angrily 
 
 Denies such senselessness. My birds of song 
 
 Their brilliant plumage show. My insects turn 
 
 Their wings of sheen in bright protest. My 
 flowers 
 
 Season by season over all the earth 
 
 Spring forth from field and fen and wood, — 
 the great 
 
 Glad globe festooning, — one wreath of frank- 
 incensed 
 
 Magnificence to lay upon the fair 
 
 White bosom of the Day. My sea-born shells 
 
 Shine with their silvery gleam from depths of 
 blue; 
 
104 "THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 The sapphire sea with pearls and opals 
 
 gemmed ; 
 Ocean o'erarched with heavenly sceneries, — 
 Now mountains of black crag and purpling 
 
 peak, 
 Now frowning fortresses of flame and roar, 
 Now palaces with oriflambs of glory. 
 Clouds with dissolved rainbows radiant. 
 One mighty dome of iridescent praise ! 
 To make the light a million varying tints 
 Conspire, sweet-blending, each in each, just as 
 Not one but all the virtues make the man. 
 
 " Few be the members of men's alphabets ; 
 A simple proverb may contain them all ; 
 All may be uttered in a turn of wit. 
 Yet by these few, scarce more than a bare 
 
 score. 
 Have men in many languages and climes 
 Expressed their joys and griefs, their loves 
 
 and hates ; 
 Have argued their abstruse philosophies. 
 Defended human rights and laid wrongs low ; 
 Defined all knowledges, sung soft amours, 
 Have whispered love and shouted challenges 
 To bloody frays ; recited famous creeds 
 They dared to die for; mournful requiems 
 Have versed and chanted o'er beloved dead ; 
 In thronged marts have bargained off their 
 
 wares ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 105 
 
 Have set brave honesties at fight with fraud ; 
 In churches have proclaimed My sacred truth, 
 My praises chanted, and My praise have 
 
 sought ! 
 The feat of reckoning all that this bare score 
 Of sound- words may express what hardihood 
 Shall venture ? All the atmosphere of earth. 
 To where the ether-ocean lands the rare 
 And precious commerce of the procreant stars, 
 Is dense with deathless speech and bounding 
 
 sound ; 
 No atom but has quick responded when 
 E'en meekest souls let fall their quiet thought ; 
 And through the reverend and majestic years 
 To come this simple alphabet shall tell 
 The immortal triumphs of the arms of Him 
 Who bears this one eternal Name, The Word ! 
 
 " Attend again. Just seven notes complete 
 The music scale. So taught the Ancients. So 
 Moderns confirm. Not more than octaves 
 
 three 
 Can aptest artist reach. Four make full 
 
 gamut 
 Of the strong voice of man. These circum- 
 scribe 
 His song. Seven octaves more, beyond these, 
 
 ear (^^ 
 Of man detects no musical sound ; 'tis shriek, 
 'Tis thud ; outside these limits — music none. 
 
io6 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 "Wherefore then need of melody ? Such close 
 
 confines, 
 Why trouble men with ears ? Why burden 
 
 air 
 With symphonies, and bells with chimes ? the 
 
 woods 
 With myriad songsters ? bees with buzz 
 And hum ? the delicate reed with minstrelsies ? 
 Insects with ditties ? leaves with psalmistries ? 
 Mountains with diapason stern of storm ? 
 
 " O Nature, Men, Beasts, Spirits, listen ! 
 
 Three 
 And seven, these ten be the full octaves men 
 May sing or hear ; yet from these seven, these 
 
 three, 
 What grace, what cheer, what inspirations 
 
 holy, 
 What prophet-preludes of th' eternal psalm, 
 What range of cadences, what serenades of 
 
 love; 
 What arias, and harmonies of home ; 
 JSolians sighing, singing 'mong the pines ; 
 The silv^er sonnets of the simmering sea ; 
 Brave bugle-blasts of freedom, truth and law ! 
 To what rich litanies, what rapture-hymns, 
 What anthems grand, consentient antiphones, 
 Majestical doxologies of joy, 
 The throbbing organ prompts the pulsing 
 
 praise ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 107 
 
 " With My full weight of Godhead I com- 
 mand 
 Men cease from their unholy jugglery 
 Of words, their heresy of hate ! For sake 
 Of souls their wretched dogmatism damns, 
 I charge they let alone My troubled ones. 
 The frightened, trembling children I would 
 
 save ! 
 When able they to understand and tell 
 * The way, — where is it, to light's dwelling- 
 place ? <•■*) 
 And darkness, where the place of its abode ? 
 The treasures of the snow how to approach ? 
 Where is the way by which the lightning 
 
 parts ? 
 How drives the rushing tempest o'er the land ? 
 How bind together th' clustering Pleiades, 
 Unloose Orion's bands, Mazzaroth lead, 
 Or guide the ways of Arctos with her sons ? ' 
 E'en then the deeper problems of My rule, 
 The blending of My life with Man's in Christy 
 The mystic meanings of the sacred Cross, 
 Remain unsolved, perplexing problems still. 
 To reverent souls let Cross and Bible preach 
 What best they may ; to wise philosophers 
 Let earth and sea and sky My will make 
 
 known ; 
 To poet all the Avorld a poem be. 
 Anthology of rhymed and rhythmed praise ; 
 Each reverent soul My Truth interpreting 
 
io8 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 As each hath deepest vision, need and thrill ; 
 Yet shall not one nor all reach utmost truth. 
 Let each feed well on what he well hath 
 
 learned, 
 Nor poison soul of his, or friend's, by coarse 
 Misjudgment, or precisionisni of cant ! 
 
 " Lo, Speech, Light, Music, all a Trinity ; 
 Distinct, but One ! Music is happy speech 
 And cheery light to troubled souls and dark. 
 Kind words make the dim way more clear and 
 
 fill 
 Sad lives with song. Light well reveals what 
 
 speech 
 But ill describes, and aids the blind almost 
 To see the joyous pulsing harmonies ! 
 Speech, music, light, have elements most scant, 
 Yet combinations infinite. With sounds 
 So few, who e'er would think to articulate 
 Fair faith and weird despair, and blissful rest, 
 Sour discontent, mirth, love, and wretched 
 
 hate ; 
 The passion-throes of uncontrolled sin ; 
 The holy hopes of great and godlike souls ; 
 The pangs of generations, each in turn 
 Hard-travailing mother of the next, with all 
 A parent's battling for the offspring's weal ; 
 Man's dreams of Me, and My most infinite 
 Observance of his need ; My pleased plans 
 Whereby he may become My child again ? 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 109 
 
 " Who with but handful of base, tenor, air, 
 "Would think to throng homes, temples, forests, 
 
 seas. 
 Summer's soft calms and sacramental showers. 
 The mountained earth, and the far flying stars 
 With countless melodies ; world unto world 
 Its waking matin and sweet even song 
 Kepeating endlessly ? Who from less dyes 
 Than th' digits of his hand might e'er com- 
 pound 
 The hues wherewith I paint the mapled hills. 
 The infant dew and lark-saluted morn, 
 Fresco the sky with magisterial thrones 
 Of judgment, and broad wings of angels white 
 That come and go attendant on My will, 
 While lightnings threat to set the globe afire ? 
 
 " O, who from subtle substance one, only 
 With variant vibration, would assume 
 To build some humblest jessamine, or bee 
 That settles to its trembling, tempting cup. 
 Or e'en the crawling worm (which, usefullest 
 Deep plowman of My plains, let man spurn 
 
 not). 
 Or e'en a trifle of some generous mould ; 
 Much less, assume to frame the solid spheres, 
 The spheres that glow, the spheres that sing. 
 That wing their winding way forevermore 
 My throne around, laden with life that thrives 
 And throbs with joy ineffable from Me ? 
 
no THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " Ay, who would deem one poor small brain 
 
 might be 
 Brave centre of My world whereto all earth 
 Reports her doings momently ; whereto 
 The solemn sun's quick-quivering messengers 
 Speed down dim distances ; whereto My 
 
 thoughts 
 Incarnated in lives innumerous 
 Reveal themselves in beauty and in light ; 
 One humble auditor, for whom are struck 
 World-fulls of rhapsodies and glory ; one 
 Keen retina that misses sight of naught 
 In depths of sky or sea that challenges 
 Its gaze, that catches lightning on the wing ; 
 My microcosmal secrets proudly probes ; 
 Revels among the braided beams of light 
 That ribbon the receding storms benign ; 
 Upon My far stars gazes till they blink ; 
 Upon My nearer sun, that in an hour 
 Would burn his earth up, looks without dis- 
 may ? 
 
 " Alas, to Man I only the Unseen ; 
 Alas, too oft, the only Unadmired ! 
 Only Creator by the creature shunned ; 
 Only the Lover by the loved unloved ! 
 Alas, My face alone He may not now 
 Behold, and live. But fast the Day draws nigh 
 When, seeing Me, into My likeness he 
 Shall grow ; from glory into glory changed ! " 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL iii 
 
 Now in a mirror darkly may we trace 
 
 The features fair 
 Of Him, who for our sakes did dark death dare; — 
 
 Then, face to face! 
 
 Bravely, therefore, we hear He comes apace, 
 
 Or how, or when 
 He will! We'll clearly see and bless Him then, 
 
 When face to face. 
 
 Meanwhile, with patience run this earthly race; 
 
 'Twill end so soon; 
 Speed on! May reach high heaven ere high-noon! 
 
 Then face to face! 
 
 Stand, face to face with truth and honor; space 
 
 Is not below 
 For falseness. God is Truth! As now, e'en so 
 
 Then, face to face! 
 
 Let's learn the lesson here; steadfast embrace 
 
 Each lowliest task 
 As highest. Will God's will! Then new work ask 
 
 When face to face. 
 
 Earth give us work! God grant us blessM grace 
 
 To do for Him 
 Whom now we love, though seen in vision dim; 
 
 Then, face to face! 
 
 O, tears be sweet, and toil, in any place 
 
 If He be near! 
 I see Him not; He me, though! We'll appear 
 
 Then, Face to Face! 
 
 " Who then may sound the secrets of His Soul 
 In whom My Godhead infinitely hides? 
 Who His full heart may know ? Than light 
 more bright, 
 
112 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 Than summer suns serene far fruitfuller, 
 
 His radiance o'erspreads the mystic earths and 
 
 skies 
 Of human soul-life, growing great harvest- 
 ings 
 Where first My plows have broken fallow 
 
 fields. 
 Thereon, when sweeping tear-storms have 
 
 rolled by, 
 His angels, bent on binding earth to heaven 
 With long strong chains of interlinked light, 
 Arch the glad sky with lustrousness that pales 
 The spectrum of the ancient covenant Bow 1 
 But He, — His grace outshines and arches all ! 
 Chiefest among ten thousand My Beloved ; 
 And altogether lovely ! Alphabets 
 Of angels cannot spell His might ; nor songs 
 Of seraphs amply celebrate His praise ; 
 Nor winged light speed like His hasting love. 
 Deep oceans were small cups to hold His 
 
 thought ! 
 Were every star a letter bright with joy 
 To help spell out His wide eternal plan. 
 And ageless aeons given his mind to tell ; 
 Were the broad planes of heaven on which 
 
 from dawn 
 To time's last sunset the wide wandering orbs 
 Their orbits make, imprinted thickly o'er 
 With story of His gracious sovereignty, 
 The possibilities of languages 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 113 
 
 Exhaust ; O know, e'en then the word-packed 
 
 world 
 Could not contain the books that should be 
 
 writ! 
 
 " Messiah's secret who then may find out ? 
 He said : ' None save the Father, knoweth 
 
 Me; 
 And none the Father, save the Son, and such 
 As the divine revealing doth inform.' 
 "Wherefore He conjured : ' Take My yoke on 
 
 you; 
 Thus learn of Me ; trust My meek, lowly heart. 
 Love's easy yoke makes heavy loads draw 
 
 light ! ' " • 
 
 Alas, dear Lord, what meanest Thou 
 That I new yoke and load see now 
 To which I must obedient bow, 
 So tired, so faint ? 
 
 Poor worn and weary heart, wilt know 
 'Tis thy sad self that galls thee so ? 
 My yoke is very easy; lo, 
 My burden's light! 
 
 O Yoke, expressly made by God, 
 • Not to gall more the neck low-bowed, 
 But just to help me draw my Load, 
 Thank God for thee! 
 
 Fair Yoke, with bow and key of love, 
 Sweet Yoke, that dost Christ's sweetness prove! 
 Thou dear Yoke-Fellow, ne'er remove 
 From me Thy Yoke! 
 
114 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 Burden — of uurusting gold, 
 Burden — of mercy on mercy rolled, 
 Burden — of grace and love untold, 
 
 Blest Burden light! 
 
 Lord, Lord, forgive; Thou cheatest me; 
 
 1 take Thy Yoke, and find me free, 
 Thy Load — Thou carriest it, and me! 
 
 Quaint Yoke! Quaint Load! 
 
 O loaded Love! O loved Load! 
 By golden Yoke drawn down God's Road! 
 Quaint Christ! Build high the Load and broad; 
 And Thine, or mine ! 
 
 " Love's easy Yoke makes heavy Loads draw 
 
 light. 
 O, know that Christ alone disco vereth Christ. 
 Only by love is Love well understood. 
 The Life that loves, the Love that lives, knows 
 
 God! 
 Spirit to spirit answereth, flesh to flesh; 
 Music to music singeth ; light to light. 
 Deep Soul of God to soul of man responds, 
 Deep soul of man divine to Soul of God. 
 My true humaneness, man's divineness, dwelt 
 In Him. Be largest, godfullest man thou 
 
 can'st ! 
 Fill thyself full of Christ, O Man, and He 
 In thee shall tell thee of Himself! Nor 
 
 worlds 
 Of wealth or wisdom, nor mere men-taught 
 
 schools, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 115 
 
 Nor men-writ books, nor e'en My Book by Me 
 Inspired, by Me securely handed down 
 Tlirough ages of contentious jealousies, 
 Alone, shall teach and touch thy deepest 
 
 heart ; 
 Christ is His own Interpreter ; fill thee 
 With Him ; then shalt thou know thy Christ, 
 
 and Mine ! 
 
 XI 
 
 " Thus answered is His Cry : ' For their sakes 
 
 pray 
 I, Father, as Thou art in Me, and I 
 In Thee, may they in us be ; I in them 
 And Thou in Me ! ' Here Incarnation wide, 
 Majestical ; Humanity Christ-filled ; 
 Here My transcendent Immanence ! Behold, 
 This Man of Nazareth doth signify 
 True God incarnate in true world redeemed. 
 Through touch with Him is Life all penetrate 
 Afresh with God. From Him, planted in 
 
 earth. 
 Most precious Seed, springs noble harvest 
 
 forth. 
 Of goodness, godliness, blooming, fruitening. 
 And multiplying on, until the earth 
 Is peopled with right manly sons of God, 
 As age shall age succeed, immortalness 
 Shall from the mortal evermore evolve. 
 God manifest in flesh ! Humanity 
 
ii6 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 Imraanuelled ! O .Day ineffable, 
 Of joy, of glory, manhood, godhood, when 
 Men thus possessing Me, themselves possess ; 
 In their own glad, strong hearts their Para- 
 dise 
 Kefind ; and Earth her ancient Eden, now 
 Beyond the Ethiopian Garden grown ; 
 Pison, Euphrates, Havilah, Gihon, 
 Its bounds no more ; the peoples all at last 
 The kingdoms of the Lord and of His Christ ! 
 
 " Ay, all Earth's empires His ! Nature, some 
 
 day 
 Thy prayer shall heeded be. Well have I 
 
 known 
 Thine earnest expectations for the sons of 
 
 God; 
 Thy groans and pains of travail until now. 
 Deliverance awaits thee soon. Then joy 
 Be thine with Mine ! Thou shalt My Eden be 
 In truth, wherein shall be My walk with men. 
 Again shall thy wild beasts be tame ; the 
 
 wolf 
 And lamb, the leopard and the kid, the calf 
 And lion, shall together dwell ; a Child 
 Shall lead them ! 
 
 " Quick hast thou My thought. Some Day 
 Men's beast-like passions shall be stilled ; their 
 greed, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 117 
 
 Their anger, envy, lust, and selfishness 
 Loved down, pitied and pardoned into peace, 
 lu peace shall dwell; them My dear Child 
 shall lead ! 
 
 "Then, as in pristine times thou mad'st thy 
 
 seas 
 And continents to fit the rude, wild life 
 I planted here, thou a New Earth and Heavens 
 Shalt form for a matured Humanity ! 
 The conscious seas and deserts aid My grace. 
 The NQry oceans un reluctantly 
 Unfetter their imprisoned waters which 
 Through centuries, by surging waves 
 And tides inspired by spirits of the winds and 
 
 moon. 
 Have fought for freedom, and do now approve 
 The copious rains with conscious tenderness 
 Baptizing Mine elect regenerate world. 
 My Western prairies, hard and sour, forbade 
 The rains pacific seas would send, and charged 
 The mountains bayonet them on their sharp 
 
 crags 
 Of cold ; but mellowed, christianed now, by 
 
 plows. 
 Homes, harvestings, welcome the fruitening 
 
 showers. 
 So fields, more verdant made, invite the more ; 
 Until, perfumed with bloom, with many a grain 
 Prolific, peopled by My saints, Earth smiles 
 And thrives, a fragrant garden of the Lord ! 
 
ii8 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 " Impulsively the very oceans hear 
 The prayers of lands beneath the tide : 
 * Out of the depths to Thee, O Lord, we cry ! ' 
 And ardently give way as mountain peaks 
 Pierce upward and broad table-lands appear, 
 With myriad life and death of myriad years 
 Enriched, heirs of the ages ! Thus, as once 
 In Patmos the beloved of My Beloved saw. 
 The primal earth and heavens were passed 
 
 away. 
 And there was no more sea. Where oceans 
 
 surged 
 Now spread My fertile plains. The angry 
 
 flood 
 I sent, because the wickedness of earth 
 Was great, hath busy been through all these 
 
 years 
 The dark deeps storing with My plentitudes 
 Of wealth, so on their resurrection they 
 May be the homes of happy sons of God ! 
 The ampler plains sustain the ampler life, 
 And holier life tenfold the fruitfuller makes 
 The ransomed lands. Earth shall become her- 
 self again, 
 And more. 
 
 " My Kingdom over all the globe 
 
 Shall spread. They who My ancient Eden 
 
 place 
 At the far Pole, where Winter sternly holds 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 119 
 
 His icy sceptre, bidding all who dare 
 Invade his realms depart, or die, err not 
 So greatly. Lo, the flashing Boreal 
 Is but the ancient Flaming Sword which yet 
 Forbids entrance within My Garden-Gate, 
 Henceforth high-lifted to protect all such 
 As in this larger Paradise would dwell. 
 
 " Thee, Nature, thee I bless again, and more ! 
 Thy heart henceforth be hopefuller ; thy hands 
 "With wealth more opulent for every need ; 
 Be to thyself restored ; thy wounds all healed ; 
 Thy life and Christ's and Man's conjoined 
 
 well ; 
 One Breath pervading all ; one Law, one Love, 
 One Lord, one Faith, one Baptism, for ye all ! 
 
 " Ah, Nature, how I love converse with thee ; 
 Thou art My daughter, after My Son begot. 
 Mine angels chanted likewise at thy birth ; 
 Likewise My Spirit brooded over thee. 
 By whom begotten He. In thee no fault ! 
 
 " Ah, Nature, some would make thee baleful 
 now. 
 
 And weak, disturned from thy first bent, wit- 
 ness 
 
 'Gainst all I made thee for. Some strangely 
 wrong 
 
 Thee, placing thee above Whom thou in all 
 
120 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Thy sweetnesses and mights and majesties 
 Dost worship, making My very works deny, 
 Discrown, disprove Me. Others count but ill 
 Thy various good ; in love of Me hate thee, 
 Thee, patient Mother of these fruitful years ; 
 Condemn as carnal those fine senses which 
 Through thee I plant in them, so better they 
 May relish the glory of thy skies, the breath 
 And power of ocean, all the benisons 
 Of peace and healthful toils, domestic joys, 
 The love of love, mother of mother-love, 
 Father of father-love, the life of life ! 
 All this, as though a slander cast on thee 
 Were loyal praise of Me ; as though when I 
 Say : * Love thou not th' things of the world ! ' 
 
 I give 
 Command that man right roundly hate the 
 
 world 
 Of joyous sense I pleased placed him in. 
 The mightier sentient nature in him placed ; 
 Himself scorn, loathe, malign, suppress, crush, 
 
 kill. 
 So he may fondlier and wiselier 
 Love Me ! Ah, some near clearer Day shalt thou 
 Be known, and I. Then shall men see how sin 
 Hath wrought disjointment, hath thy harmony 
 Disturbed ; hath planted envy 'tween thy soul 
 And bodily form, between unseen and seen, 
 'Tween earth and heaven ; as though light here 
 
 w^ere dark 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 121 
 
 Up there ; as though 'twere My prerogative 
 To tempt men through their natures to their 
 fall ! " 
 
 Lord, Jesus Christ, whose pardons sweet I plead {^) 
 For each poor quivering, iuward, outward deed, 
 Help me to treat with thoughtful tenderness 
 AH I commit unto Thy fond caress. 
 
 What Thou forgivest let me cease to hate, 
 
 What Thou forgettest may I cancel straight; 
 
 What, torn and bleeding. Thy wise grace would heal — 
 
 For this may I a kindred pity feel! 
 
 Why should I break the broken limb anew 
 Whose gentle mending Thou art tending to ? 
 Why lash with scorn myself — Thy wandering child, 
 Whom Thou art tempting back by arts so mild ? 
 
 I mourn, dear Christ, the sins that wounded Thee; 
 Thou mourn est more they have so wounded me; 
 No more I'll hurt this blundering, bleeding soul 
 Thy wounded hands so softly would make whole! 
 
 Correct, O Lord, the all-mistaken zeal 
 That sorer makes the sores Thy love would heal ; 
 Deeming we best sweet Mercy's will obey. 
 When we not self but suffering selves would slay. 
 
 Alas! on soul and body many a scar. 
 All self-inflicted in this needless war. 
 Where we misdeem amidst our strange alarms 
 God's bugle-blast of Peace a call to arms! 
 
 — Ay, ay, to arms, to arms, Thou callest me! 
 To arms! Thine own strong arms of sympathy! 
 Lord God! when thus Thou armest, Thou dost best dis- 
 arm me 
 Of all such weapons as most charm — and harm me! 
 
122 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " O, how hath learned ignorance forced Me 
 Outside Mine own dear world ! Unnatural 
 It seems to some — e'en wise, that prayer may 
 
 serve, 
 That souls may revelations share, or souls 
 Be souls, that back to primal purity 
 May be rebirths ; that I, deep pained for sin. 
 May come to help of such as penitent 
 On Me shall call. Less freedom Mine than 
 
 men 
 Have, even slaves ; less power have I to 
 
 save — 
 Than men to slay ! But, Man's redemption 
 
 more 
 And more complete ; his reason, conscience, 
 
 will. 
 Affections, brought to glad accord with Mine ; 
 Then, Nature, all these sad inharmonies. 
 These strange misfits of being, shall right 
 
 themselves. 
 Of Natural and Supernatural 
 They shall not with an unwise wisdom prate. 
 Swearing to this, swearing at that. They shall 
 Confession make of this one simple Creed : 
 'In God, the Father Almighty, I believe. 
 Maker of heaven and earth, and Jesus Christ 
 His Son, and Immanent Holy Ghost — One 
 
 God ; 
 Therefore one World, one broad Humanity, 
 One Life, Love, Nature, in the One I am ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 123 
 
 " My Infidels (for some I claim who claim 
 Not Me in name ; I being oft set forth 
 In such grotesqueness e'en Mine angels smile 
 At such My strange deformities ; — or would, 
 Save they so lead some strongest souls astray ; 
 True Me they love and honorably serv^e ; 
 My Infidels) though oft misled elsewise, 
 Be right in this : in holding steadfastly 
 There be not two antagonistic worlds ^^^ 
 With laws and purposes and Lords at war. 
 Grievous their error, limiting My domain 
 To what eyes see, hands touch, nerves feel ; 
 
 as though 
 The Soul hath not her sense also where- 
 with 
 She knows the deeper verities. Compared 
 With that most true, transcendent sphere, 
 This mundane life's the imponderable one ; 
 Where shadows move, Avhere shadows shadows 
 
 see, 
 On shadows feed, get shadow-hurt or good, 
 Where shadows quarrel with shadows whether 
 
 there be 
 Real trees, clouds, mountains, genuine souls, 
 
 and God ! 
 Elsewise they err ; but herein be they right, 
 Saying the Here and There truly agree ; 
 The Supernatural is God ; elsewise, the Nat- 
 ural 
 And Supernatural, so called, be one ! 
 
124 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 "How other? Many Spheres! Spheres 
 
 within spheres ; 
 And spheres beyond ! One world men see 
 
 and hear ; 
 Nor only kindred worlds be unobserved ; 
 But Worlds of other worlds, which neither 
 
 men 
 Nor angels dream of ; 'tween which is no 
 
 touch, 
 Though into one another thrust, as waves 
 Of light and gravity and vital fire 
 Do interplay in the wide ether realms, 
 Nor e'er impinge e'en though from rival 
 
 spheres ; 
 Their only rivalry to bless all worlds 
 With grace and consciousness of God. But as 
 To th' life of Time and After-Time ; on 
 
 earth, 
 In heaven ; man's physical form and his fine 
 
 soul ; 
 His life is one, and seen and unseen powers 
 Combine, and one law rules, and Heaven is 
 
 near, 
 And here her laws obedience require. 
 Here unseen ladders lift from every knoll 
 And bumble, fruitful vale, up which angels 
 Convey earth's prayers, and downward to poor 
 
 men 
 My hasting benedictions. Thus behold. 
 The Natural Supernatural in Life. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 125 
 
 Only 'tis sin that for a time disjoins ; 
 
 'Tis man's self-will conflicts ; his errant heart 
 
 Brings rude debate and blundering rivalries. 
 
 XII 
 
 " Behold the Infinite's daring ! forming one 
 With a free-will that braves dispute with 
 
 God; 
 One that coerces the Divinity 
 "Within him to a new creation ; ay, 
 An empire of his own, from which he aspires 
 The original Creator to thrust out ! 
 
 " Why chafe at this, when one may ask as 
 
 well, 
 Why made I world-stuff ever ? How came I 
 So deep dissatisfied with Self, I needs 
 Though infinite must finite Being make ? 
 How came I to be I ? How waked to start 
 This task of building worlds ? What next 
 
 My fad 
 When this toy -making and toy-playing's done ? 
 How long before I tire of being God ? " 
 
 Lord God! Art Thou not weary of Thy years 
 
 So anciently begun ? 
 O, had'st Thou but some noble, worthy peers 
 
 With Thee in unison; 
 Then might'st Thou patience have with humble spheres 
 
 So low beneath the sun ! 
 
126 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Lord, hast Thou not sometime bemoaued Thy choice 
 
 That iu Thy form us made, 
 Only to turn in self-will from Thy Voice 
 
 So we might masquerade 
 In liberty ? Can'st still in us rejoice 
 
 Who thus Thy love repaid ? 
 
 Thou hast Thy Peers, Thy Son, Thy Holy Ghost, 
 
 Beginningless with Thee, 
 Thou hast Thy multitudinous angel host 
 
 That serve Thee endlessly! 
 Us. through our freedom slaves. Thy grace shall most 
 
 Illustriously set free! 
 
 The shackles that our wandering feet weigh down, 
 
 The irons our hands that tie, 
 Become through love glad golden chain and crown 
 
 That vouch our liberty! 
 Ah, might our shame but heighten His renown 
 
 Who chose for us to die! 
 
 O Life of life! In this dead fruitless field 
 
 Of human earthliness 
 Thou plantedst deep Thyself for generous yield 
 
 Of godlike manliness! 
 Thy grave grows resurrections. Death is healed, 
 
 Love dies into success! 
 
 " Nay, nay ! Not tired, nor out of heart or 
 
 faith 
 "With man to whom I freely gave free-will, 
 And its just dower of immortalness ! 
 His glory, that with faculty of sin 
 He stand in grand integrity and truth ; 
 If faithless, then My pride e'en at expense 
 Of pain divine to win the wanderer back ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 127 
 
 His very fall to teach him thenceforth stand 
 In sweetened penitence and grateful trust, 
 In larger, loyaller liberty of love ! 
 What chance renowned hath thus Mine Only 
 
 Son, 
 Mine Heir to vast dominion, to attest 
 Fine fitness for the throne, — grace, valor, 
 
 faith, 
 Self-mastery, wise conquest of His foes — 
 Which murders not, but makes them glad 
 
 allies ! 
 
 " Meanwhile this earth is noble. It deserves 
 
 All the strong ardors wherewith sun and stars 
 
 Hold it in passionate embrace, so ne'er 
 
 It falters in its pace, nor turns aside 
 
 To orbits strange. I bless them that they 
 
 kiss 
 Its pleased zones to warmth and fruitfulness. 
 Yet with far ampler blessing bless I earth 
 And sky and the benignant stars beyond, 
 Gently My children nursing, rearing them 
 To happy health and strength ; all in pro- 
 found 
 Accord with inmost spiritual life; 
 So health of this gives purer tone to that, 
 From each into and through the other free 
 Inflow of My good Spirit who in all 
 Deep dwells. On body and spirit, one in 
 man. 
 
128 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 As groom and bride now sacramented one, 
 
 My favorite Benediction I pronounced : 
 
 The Lord bless thee and keep thee ; the Lord 
 
 cause 
 His face to shine, and gracious be to thee ; 
 The Lord lift up His countenance on thee 
 And give thee Peace ! What I have joined let 
 
 none 
 Dare put asunder ! Such divorce begets 
 But anger and unhappy fruitlessness. 
 So far as one pure spirit both pervades, 
 Their union most complete. The very earth 
 Seems born again ; the seen and unseen fit ; 
 Angels and sainted heavens visit here ! 
 
 "This squares with My first thought; it 
 
 matches prayer ; 
 And inspirations, angels, miracles, 
 And God ; no clashing ; one consentient 
 
 whole. 
 This thank have I with all My heart to give 
 The sceptics. To their sorrow, to Mine own 
 Much more, the very verities they lose 
 Clear vision of ! But rightly, nobly they 
 Insist on the divineness, innocence, 
 Necessity, and glory of the world, 
 And the proud worth of man's corporeal 
 
 frame ; 
 Through earthly glasses they see heavenly 
 
 spheres. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 129 
 
 Will some, then, deem Me wrong ? Shall In- 
 fidels 
 Teach faith, deniers teach most inmost truth ? 
 
 " Have some forgot that outside saint to whom 
 My Abraham paid tithes ? Sore grieves it Me, 
 My own dear sons know not themselves, nor 
 
 Me; 
 Calling themselves and others by false names. 
 What if I have My atheists ? What if they 
 Be right or wrong, according to what god 
 They disavow, and what godlikeness hate? 
 I, too, were Atheist, if coerced to own 
 The hideous travesties that in My Name 
 Have cursed the shuddering world ! Do men 
 
 believe 
 In Me, and in My Christ ? The Church, the 
 
 Clique, 
 The empty Credo some affect, put this 
 In doubt. Better be sceptic than make good 
 Men such! Believing sceptics have more 
 
 faith 
 Than unbelieving saints. The question is. 
 How far the spiritual vision holds ; 
 How much of God one sees, feels, loves, in 
 
 Him 
 In whom the fullness of My Godhead dwells ? 
 As wrote an ancient poet of that East 
 Whose glorious Dawn now breaks from Occi- 
 dent: 
 
130 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 * There be who pass along the highway, pick 
 A common stone, split it, and find a gem ! 
 This is because they know gems. There be 
 
 they 
 Who enter caverns lined with brilliant wealth. 
 But empty-handed issue, knowing not gems ! ' <'") 
 
 " My Scriptures say, to love and know be one. 
 To souls inspired for whom all life is song 
 Sweet music breathes from all the silent 
 
 flowers. 
 To them the whirling wheels that swift beat 
 
 time 
 Along the rails of steel, sing lullabies, 
 Fugues, serenades, grand oratorios, 
 As suit the passing mood ; to such more joy 
 Of melody in lumbering trains of freight. 
 Than the dull mob would hear from angel- 
 choirs ! 
 
 " Through larger pupil some receive more 
 
 light 
 At eventide than others at noon. Small souls 
 Cannot see large ! A great art-soul discerns 
 More color in the purpling buds of March 
 Than vulgar boors in Spring's vast wealth of 
 
 bloom. 
 Or Autumn's goldened fields, vermilioned 
 
 hills, 
 Enchanted mountains slumbering under piles 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 131 
 
 Of metamoi-phosed rainbows ! He most meets 
 Requirement for My Faith, who with a large 
 Full-orbed capacity, fine spiritual nerve 
 Behind big pupil, sees essential truth ; 
 Catches the first faint glimmering of dawn ; 
 Misses no ray from heaven ; discovers quick 
 Whatever is of Me ; in spite of false 
 Head-learnings hath heart-learnings sound; 
 
 and though 
 By many a doubt and dogma blinded, sees 
 In Jesu's pensive face and lowly mind, 
 His tender speech and healing touch, His 
 
 strange 
 And heavenly visioning, that life that dies 
 And through death lives immortal, — more of 
 
 God 
 Than many a learned dolt, a well-trained 
 
 parrot, 
 "Who faith unsacraments, pronouncing all 
 The shibboleths of his school, yet knows not 
 
 what 
 The grand first-born, fire-tried Confessions 
 
 mean, 
 Since he hath not through Love's clear e3'^e 
 
 seen Me ! 
 
 " "Who loves is born of God and knoweth 
 
 God. 
 I dwell in man intenser than in worlds. 
 'Tis the divine within sees God without ; 
 
132 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 As with reflecting telescopes souls oft 
 
 Aim skyward, but look down into themselves 
 
 And surprised see the clear reflected God 1 " 
 
 When human creeds contest, (") 
 And Scriptures feign would fight, 
 
 Let man in his God-dwelt breast 
 Discern the right. 
 
 " Alas, that what should Me reveal, obscures ; 
 That what should bind Me closeliest to Mine 
 
 own 
 Sunders, and turns My children's trust away ! 
 But, Nature, not far hence thyself shalt be 
 My friend unhindered, clear interpreter 
 To men of My profound intents. Be Thou 
 My Book, My Grace, Man's second Trinity ! 
 I tell thee, thou art true ; and truth alone 
 Thou speakest. Yerily no fault I find 
 In thee. Fair all thy forms. Thy discords 
 
 help 
 To deeper harmonies. True souls thy thought 
 Shall readily catch ; shall not mistrust, mis- 
 dread. 
 Misread, misuse, misprize thee ; but shall face 
 Thee straight, ask thy full mind ; then dare 
 
 receive, 
 Believe it, write it down, strongly commend 
 Thee to their sons, un fearing what thy speech ! 
 O, Second Home, and Church, and Bible, thou, 
 To such as in deep depths of love love Me ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 133 
 
 " Now, Nature, will we haste sad raisconceits 
 To cure and hurtful heresies to heal. 
 Already fleeth Darkness, dawneth Day ! 
 Dost note how mend these times ; how Love 
 
 its wise 
 Supremacy assumes ? Love comes, a king 
 Of kings. Love is the New Messiah, like 
 The Nazarene anointed prophet, priest. 
 And king ; true Prophet, teaching larger souls 
 The larger truths ; Priest, making altars rich 
 O'er all the gospelled world with offerings 
 Of wealth and labor, lovely, lofty life, — 
 Him copying who on awed and awful Cross 
 Kissed hate to love, and death to immortal 
 
 life; 
 King also, kingly King, whose wholesome sway 
 Not slays but quickens, guides, regenerates ; 
 Whose laws obeyed augment man's liberty, 
 Whose widening sweep helps civilization on, 
 And fast compels the nations into peace ! 
 O grand Shalomic Peace, whereof the Seers 
 Of ancient Israel had vision, and spake oft, 
 With threefold richness of significance ; 
 A tranquil peace, with happy plenteousness, 
 A people prosperous under smile of God ! " 
 
 XIII 
 
 More God! More God! let's cry; 
 With measure slijfht we die. 
 More God! The generous thrill 
 Strong through ! Oh, not until 
 
134 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Charged with His millionth volt, (") 
 We find safe Thunderbolt ! 
 'Tis some few hundred odd 
 That kill. Dare take more God ! 
 
 " All Life is one, I immanent in All ; 
 The child-cry and strong song of seraphim ; 
 The worm and man of kindred ancient dust ; 
 The palpitating ether that fears not 
 The spheres of fire ; and spheres of solid fire 
 That but for ether's wings might never fly 
 Their dancing radiance down the steeps of Day ; 
 The surging swing and sway of ocean-tides 
 At silent signal of the midnight moon ; — 
 Above all, through all, in all, immanent I ! 
 Thou hatest a vacuum ; I more ! My might 
 And light. My love and life, press hard through 
 
 each 
 Dear rift of Opportunity. And still 
 In Man dwell I intenser than in worlds." 
 
 Infinite God ! So far away 
 
 Above our painM stretch of thought, 
 
 O might'st Thou towards our weakness stray 
 So we would see Thee as we ought ! 
 
 Ah, might'st Thou but more finite be, 
 Nor less the God, yet more the Man ; 
 
 'Twere health, 'twere life, 'twere ecstasy — 
 Thy hand to touch. Thy face to scan. 
 
 Once wert Thou here in human frame, 
 
 But, O, so long agone it seems; 
 The distant God becomes a Name, 
 
 We seem to see Him as in dreams ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 135 
 
 Come down the heavens, come down the years, 
 Grow like us, Lord, except our sin ; 
 
 Whisper our eager listening ears 
 Thou livest deep ourselves within. 
 
 O Soul within this soul of mine, 
 
 I hail Thy sacred immanence ; 
 May mine be Thine, and Thine be mine. 
 
 One interdwelt intelligence! 
 
 Spirit of God, O help me when. 
 
 Wearied with crying toward yon skies, 
 
 To Thee, my heart's dear Denizen, 
 Inward I turn my longing eyes. 
 
 Thee, in my heavens and earth within. 
 With better than poor praise I bless; 
 
 To Thee I trust my headstrong sin, 
 Soft resting in Thy warm caress. 
 
 O Sovereign Soul within me, heal 
 The broken bone, the failing heart; 
 
 And to my weaknesses that kneel 
 To Thee, Thy strengthening grace impart, 
 
 Welcome, my soul's delightful Guest! 
 
 Help smooth each angered, angering frown, 
 Sing this torn breast to calm and rest, 
 
 And lave and love these passions down. 
 
 So may the heavens within me be 
 Symbol of Thy pure heaven above, 
 
 Clear as the cloudless, crystal sea, 
 Irradiant with Thy golden love ! 
 
 "In man I dwell intenser than in worlds; 
 The trillioned ether-waves that quiver down 
 The infinite star-realms be but the glad, 
 
1 36 THE DIVINE PR O CESSION JL 
 
 Exultant, heart-beats of the great World-Soul 
 
 That throbs eternally. These signify 
 
 How through the human heart with threefold 
 
 thrill 
 Pulsates My quickening life ; now radiant 
 
 light, 
 Now fine and firm attractions ; euphonies now 
 That far transcend the music of mere spheres ! 
 
 "The world is full of melody and light. 
 Whene'er I choose the solace of a psalm. 
 The listening souls of ether loose their lips 
 In lustrous praise. Ay, think what martial 
 
 strains 
 By little piping fifes lead armed hosts 
 Through death to victory ! ^olian harps 
 Let not the wild winds pass, except they pay 
 Their tribute of a song. The world's alive 
 With psalms and symphonies ; but leaden ears 
 Hear not. If in a robin's throat such notes 
 Of joy, if through some humble organ-reeds 
 Such overwhelming melody of praise, 
 Then from th' innumerous pipes that reach 
 
 unseen 
 To heaven, what thunders drown what thun- 
 ders grand ! 
 
 " I, immanent in all, see, hear, feel all. 
 If ever weary with the antheming joy 
 I some selectest spot indwell (as once 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 137 
 
 The Holy of Holies) where by My key- 
 board <^^> 
 I tap the music of what world I will, 
 Or set star-choirs a-singing, having each 
 Its own distinctive motif, as each hath 
 Its spectrum that doth show its temper well ; 
 These songs without rough words I love to 
 
 hear ; 
 These interblending, then what psalmodies 
 Magnifical be Mine ! As once one said, 
 And well : ' From harmony to harmony. 
 Through all the compass of the notes it ran, 
 The diapason closing full in Man.' 
 So, on each globe revolving round and round 
 Like some vast phonograph, the songs and sighs, 
 The frowns and smiles of universes play ; 
 And aeons distant, whensoe'er I choose. 
 Though all the stars but one had disappeared 
 In death, this only with full freight of years 
 I may turn backward, and shall hear again 
 The myriad messages and musics, all 
 That men mistakenly had deemed forgot ! " 
 
 A myriad music lies asleep, 
 
 Unknowing and unknown, 
 Till through the reeds with tuneful sweep 
 
 The breath of God is blown. 
 
 Then through the waking pipes there thrill 
 
 As love shall touch the keys, 
 Now loud and grand, now soft and still, 
 
 The heavenly melodies. 
 
138 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Lord, gather from each vagrant wind 
 The songs that idling roam, 
 
 So in these pulsing pipes they find 
 Their own harmonious home. 
 
 Let golden pipes give golden song 
 For olden hearts and young; 
 
 No sougless soul in all the throng. 
 No gift of God unsung ! 
 
 Lord, might we but responsive be 
 To each dear touch of Thine; 
 
 Our lives an anthem unto Thee 
 With theme and tune divine ! 
 
 " Such thoughts be dear to Me. The world 
 is dear ; 
 E'en this which strikes the physical sense ; 
 But dearer far that realm by eyes unseen, 
 By ears unheard, that soul-life that lies close 
 To Mine, which interweaves and interlives 
 And interloves with Mine. Souls outweigh 
 
 stars. 
 Outshine them, and outlast. In them I dwell 
 More immanent than in worlds. My Poet 
 
 brake 
 In San Giovanni a classic font, and spilled 
 The holy waters on the floor, to save 
 A babe from drowning, — sacred sacrilege ; 
 And I would crush My handful of big worlds 
 Sooner than hurt one heart that seeks My 
 
 face ! 
 The songs of such I love ; by them am I 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 139 
 
 E'en cheered. Close to their lisping lips I lay 
 Mine ear, then rise to bless them. Here once 
 
 more 
 I by My key-board sit, and wire each soul 
 To give Me some sweet song. Who singingly 
 Asketh Me most, most pleaseth Me. In touch 
 Keep I with all ; and the good lives men 
 
 live, 
 And the brave fights for righteousness they 
 
 fight, 
 And the true trust they cherish in My grace, 
 And the sad tears they shed o'er sin, their 
 
 pleas 
 That would coerce the mercy of a tyrant, 
 Their proud, exultant fealty to My Christ, — 
 These be to Me songs in My sometime-night 
 To brighten up the darkness into day ! 
 I dwell in the spiritual ether which 
 Pervades, outspreads the springing spheres; 
 
 wherein 
 Sweep eager waves of light and might and 
 
 song; 
 Their rich vibrations be the deep heart-throbs 
 And heaving breathings of the Mighty God. 
 
 XIV 
 
 " They who to Nature's bosom closeliest lie 
 Best note the pulses of My heart ; and such 
 As deepest dwell in Me hear Nature best, 
 And understand her language and intent. 
 
140 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " Therefore I planted on this planet Man, 
 
 A child of immortality in clay, 
 
 In his fine form erect, with vision clear; 
 
 His life below, his hopes beyond the stars ; 
 
 Product and heir of all past centuries, 
 
 Hope of sublimer ages yet to be. 
 
 He meets My noblest purpose, who spurns not 
 
 This mundane life as base, or the next as vain ; 
 
 But stands straight up with both feet on the 
 
 earth, 
 His head uplift, his hands upon his task, 
 His vision clear for service near and far. 
 His heaven-hopes e'er kindling worthier zeal. 
 His joy in duty done here whetting his taste 
 For loftier aims and worthier work beyond ; 
 Proud of his birthplace, faithful to his home, 
 And bound to keep his name and title clean ! 
 Such healthy, holy, whole Man is My son ! 
 
 " Such, too, My Chosen. Not a weakling He ; 
 Nor 'shamed of earthly friends and common 
 
 toils. 
 His Mother was a royal peasant maid ; 
 And Joseph a blunt honest carpenter ; 
 His brothers and His mates used to catch fish 
 And sell them in the village market-place ; 
 Himself a home-trained carpenter, and all 
 His humble work was honorably done. 
 Had He been called to carve an oaken throne 
 Or build a ship for Caesar, He had not 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 141 
 
 More honorably wrought than for the needs 
 Of peasants. 'Twas His father's business He 
 Would be about ; as patient mending chil- 
 dren's toys 
 As rearing stately homes and palaces. 
 
 "Thus all His "World-Work is most worthily 
 
 done 
 From earliest planting to this fruiting time ; 
 !N"o base material, no slighted task ; 
 As genuine gems at the great mountain's core 
 As on the surface shine; the unsearched 
 
 depths 
 Of oceans fuller of life all-beautiful 
 Than the wide fields and forests and the air ; 
 All honest art, and glorious, even like 
 The Heavenly City, whose foundation walls 
 Be garnished with all manner of precious 
 
 stones. 
 
 "And patiently Christ toileth through the 
 
 years. 
 Not ended yet His plans. His Day is near ! 
 'Tis ever so ; His Day is always near I 
 The Lord's at hand; but the Final Day yet 
 
 waits, 
 Shall yet wait long. If millions of old years 
 Were in mere laying the foundations used. 
 The structure in its building must take time ; 
 And, once the edifice erected, sure, 
 
142 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 After such pains and skill it must stand long, 
 Temple and Home and Palace of the King. 
 No long-drawn ages patient with the fires 
 And frosts, the scouring glaciers and the surge 
 Of seas, and all the slow evolving life. 
 E'en loveless lingulae lingering the long while ; 
 And then for Man immortal in Mine image 
 A heartless haste, undignified, shuffling 
 Him off, — him worthy of the world, and world 
 For him ; ere yet she gets her pay for all 
 Her trouble, or he learns to use her as 
 Abusing not, having hope set on Me 
 "Who richly give him all things to enjoy ! 
 Nay, he, rich in good works, and readily 
 Distributing, shall lay in store a good 
 Foundation 'gainst the time to come, 
 So holy ages upon ages may take hold 
 Upon that life which is true Life indeed. 
 
 "This world I had My Son build for My 
 
 praise ; 
 Its central aim to incarnate mighty love ; 
 For this, Creation travaileth till now. 
 The Infant of the Years dies not a babe ! 
 Not near earth's close came Christ its lost to 
 
 save. 
 The ancient dispensations were but steps 
 That to the holy Temple led. The bulk 
 Of human life was not to be bare hope 
 Of what should be, but rest in mercy wrought. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 143 
 
 No centuries of blind feeling after God, 
 The finding to be followed by collapse ! 
 That were to take the prelude for the song, 
 The organ's tuning for the volumed praise. 
 Nay, nay ! When after many centuries 
 The Baptist cries : ' Behold the Lamb of God ! ' 
 He calls to ages upon ages yet to come. 
 When Jesus cries : ' Look unto Me all ye 
 Most utmost ends of earth, and be ye saved ! ' 
 He calls not chiefly those who, long since dead, 
 Foreheard Him and foresaw ; nor those who 
 
 dwell 
 In centuries adjacent His brief stay ; 
 But to the denser populated years 
 That stretch immeasurable ages on. 
 My countless children through yet countless 
 
 times. 
 Earth's no wee playhouse of the Bethlehem 
 
 Babe, 
 To be rash toppled over soon as built ; 
 'Tis My Christ's home to dwell in ; glorious 
 
 Church 
 For centuries on centuries of prayer ; 
 His palace, whence shall issue, till Far End, 
 Rights and redemptions, law and love and 
 
 life I 
 
 " O, hear His Yoice : ' Surely I quickly Come ! ' 
 Answer, ' Amen ! E'en so, Lord Jesus, Come ! ' 
 His Time is Past. 'Tis the yet Far Unseen. 
 
144 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 'Tis close at-hand. Lo, in the heavens the 
 
 Sign ! 
 Behold, the Son of Man cometh in clouds, 
 (How clouds conceal the while they glorify), 
 With power and glory great ! And every eye 
 Shall see Him, even they that pierced Him. 
 
 All 
 Earth's carnal kingdoms wail because of Him. 
 Take heed ; watch ; pray ; for ye know not 
 
 The Time ! " 
 
 Cometh He now with holy angels bright? 
 Cometh He now in robes of lordly light ? 
 Cometh He now to wipe earth's orphan-tears? 
 Cometh He now to right the wrongs of years? 
 Cometh He now to help our hurt of sin ? 
 Cometh He now to bring His Kingdom in ? 
 Cometh He now Hell's stubborn gates to storm? 
 Cometh He now His government to form ? 
 Cometh He now our wars and woes to cease, 
 Head over all, the mighty Prince of Peace ? 
 Cometh the End, when the crowned Victor shall 
 Himself be Subject, God be All in All ! 
 
 " Ay, even so. Yet patience, Sons of Men ; 
 E'en now He cometh, and forever shall ! 
 The Lord is risen ! The Lord is risen indeed ! 
 And for an age of ages shall He rise 
 Till zenith of the earth's high-noon be reached, 
 When the Prophetic Voice shall loud command 
 The sun on this wide Gibeon to stand still 
 Till conquering Christ put all beneath His 
 feet! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 145 
 
 " But know He cometh never as men deem ; 
 Sages from far amongst the pagan fanes 
 Followed their Star and found the Infant 
 
 God, 
 When they who kept His temple knew Him 
 
 not. 
 When found at length, these thought Him 
 
 good ally 
 To aid their schemes of wealth and pomp and 
 
 power ; 
 Most useful member of their business-firm ; 
 A prince to well reward His partisans with 
 
 office ; 
 Ahasuerus over, they the great 
 Kich Hamans riding proudly at His side ! 
 O, even he who leaned on Jesu's breast 
 Must quarrel with Simon for hanged Haman's 
 
 honors ! 
 His Coming ever, even now, the same ; 
 Too oft the manger open but the palace 
 
 shut; 
 The wise, the strong, the reverend, all, stark- 
 blind, 
 While humble shepherds find Him, and 
 
 adore ! " 
 
 Mary and Joseph down to Bethlehem came 
 To pay the Roman taxes, as assessed. 
 
 Wherefore ? 
 To signify the Babe of wondrous Name 
 Would pay sin's taxes on a world oppressed. 
 
146 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 The Babe not in the Inn but hiimble Manger 
 Opened wide eyes upon surprised earth. 
 
 Wherefore ? 
 To signify how He, strange little Stranger, 
 Would love and lodge with men of lowly birth. 
 
 The Cattle chewed their cud, then gravely sought 
 To see the Little One they would not bruise. 
 
 Wherefore ? 
 They saw their masters' Master there, and thought. 
 Who cared for oxen would not men abuse! 
 
 Some Shepherds heard the happy Angels sing 
 Of the dear Child, aud Peace to good-willed men. 
 
 Wherefore ? 
 O, He would be kind Shepherd and would bring 
 His Sheep safe home, and Angels sing again ! 
 
 From Persian plains three Pious Pagans brought 
 Their precious gold and frankincense and myrrh. 
 
 Wherefore ? 
 God's Own Untaught have oft His robes rich wrought, 
 While Greed and Creed builded His sepulchre ! 
 
 These Wise Men came straight to Him from afar. 
 Whilst nearby King and Jewry found Him not. 
 
 Wherefore ? 
 Clear Day shall dawn on who mind glimmering Star! 
 Lo, Infinite God in th' Infant's hallowed grot! 
 
 Then Herod for the Child made angry quest; 
 Failing, slew all the Innocents in town ! 
 
 Wherefore? 
 He kills the Infant-Angels in his breast, 
 Who welcomes not the Christ-King, and His Crown ! 
 
 Ever God's Star ariseth in some East; 
 Ever His Babe is in some Manger born ! 
 
 Wherefore ? 
 All noble souls but deem themselves the least! 
 All Days of God begin with star-lit Morn ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 147 
 
 " Wherefore, God cometh never as men deem. 
 The Highest to the lowly, lowly bends. 
 Ever hath He the hungering filled with good ; 
 Ever proud rich hath empty sent away ! 
 Therefore the poor in spirit blessed be. 
 Lowly, and riding on an humble beast, 
 Into each proud Jerusalem He rides ; 
 To his imperial kingdom o'er the earth, 
 He comes not with proud, painful pageantries. 
 Parades of triumph, mobs of learned fools. 
 No tool of tyrants and no pet of thieves, 
 E'en from the sanctuaries will He frown 
 And lash the sacrilegious robbers out. 
 He preaches his Beatitudes again ; 
 Blessed the poor in spirit, they that mourn, 
 The meek, the thirsters after righteousness. 
 The merciful, the pure, the peacemakers ; 
 They shall see God ; they shall His Children 
 be! 
 
 XV 
 
 " Now dawns a new and stately Day ; 
 
 A century of centuries at hand ; 
 
 Nature is quivering with spontaneous thrill I 
 
 More eager she than man, herself uplifts 
 
 Her veil to catch the Coming of the Christ. 
 
 Nature doth feel the pressure of His feet ; 
 
 And the winds and the woods and the waters 
 
 watch and pray 
 For Man's and her Kedeemer's hasting speed. 
 
148 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Dost note how eager and most jubilant she 
 That men explore her treasuries. Day by 
 
 day 
 Some reverent searcher for the New meets 
 
 rich 
 Surprise. Impatient, she cannot endure 
 That such vast stores of blessing be not blessed 
 Through sacred service. Sorely grieves it her, 
 Her waves grow weary with their useless 
 
 surge, 
 Storming stern crags, and grinding grists of 
 
 sand, 
 Omnipotent in rage since impotent 
 To help ! 
 
 " Sore grieves it her, her mighty winds 
 Sail wailing down the main since o'er the land 
 Their errands with sweet tidings be so few. 
 Sore grieves it her, her lightnings shrieking 
 
 fly, 
 
 Striking the jagged peaks, angered since they 
 
 May not in softer voice whisper of glory 
 
 To God on high, and peace to good-willed 
 
 men 
 On earth ! The electric centres of the globe 
 Through loud ^tnean trumpets make de- 
 mand 
 Outlet be given them instantly, so they 
 May harness their huge might to draw the 
 world 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 149 
 
 Towards ampler civilizations I Some grand 
 
 Day 
 Her prayer for the conversion of the heart 
 Of this strange earth to God's and Man's be- 
 hoof 
 Shall gladly granted be ; so, were the sun, 
 Discouraged at her long delay in sin, to veil 
 His face in shadows, out of soul of earth 
 Would issue what would wake the cold to 
 
 warmth 
 And bury darkness under flowers of day. 
 — Type of My Christ, forth from whose pierced 
 
 side, 
 When men frowned hatred on Him and the sun 
 Withdrew his pleased smile so very rocks 
 Did shiver into fragments with the chill. 
 Poured that all-procreant light of love, which 
 
 since 
 Hath filled these fields with happy, fruitful 
 life. 
 
 " All these do signify what hides in Man ; 
 What yet unharnessed waves of passion ; what 
 Strange winds that wander aimless through 
 
 his skies ; 
 What untapped centres of prolific mights, 
 What warring loves mistreated unto death ; 
 Which, nursed and schooled and handed to 
 
 dear Christ 
 For His redeeming, would in turn redeem. 
 
150 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 O, many a tomb for bumble Joseph builded 
 Dreams not it holds some Christ for resur- 
 rection ! 
 
 "Not only on fair Eesurrection-Morn 
 When I shall call the dead to Judgment dread, 
 When forth from lands and seas shall rise 
 The multitudes new-bodied and new-souled ; 
 But here henceforth shall resurrections be ; 
 The tastes, the loves, the aims regenerate. 
 These bodies templed by My Holy Ghost, 
 Responsive to their inner Master's call ; 
 Corruption into incorruption changed. 
 Mortal to immortality, Death robbed 
 Of sting. Grave spoiled of vaunting victory ; 
 Such affluent health affirmed of influent 
 
 grace ! 
 Thence, through the pure and purifying heart 
 Fresh vital blood pure as the mountain-springs. 
 Thence manly forms on bones of steel to bear 
 The burdens and the toils of life. Thence 
 
 nerves 
 Instant and vibrant to the soul's demands. 
 Thence brain that easily, widely, wisely learns. 
 And with a wisdom born of healthy heart 
 Elects a life of love and use supreme ! 
 Such godlike race shall make a godlike world; 
 Thenceforth nor sun nor moon ; the Glory of 
 
 God 
 Shall lighten it ; the Lamb the Light thereof ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 151 
 
 " Let but My Cross be lift o'er all the world, 
 (My Cross, I say, not that alone of quivering 
 
 wood 
 And penitent nails, whereon once helpless 
 
 hung 
 My Son, thus helpfuUer to be ;) let but 
 My Cross, My Cross of Love, whereon in 
 
 heaven 
 As well as earth, self sues for service, pleasure 
 Is pleased with sacrifice, love longs to lose 
 Herself in others' joy, and Death through 
 
 death 
 Comes reborn to sweet life ; — when this shall be, 
 My kingdom is at hand ; and very Earth's 
 True kingdom is at hand ; most opulent 
 With gold and gems, with commerce and with 
 
 craft. 
 With glorious manhoods, statesmanships re- 
 nowned, 
 Learnings and sciences, wise faiths and hopes. 
 Wars emulous of the victories of peace ; 
 Nature and grace at last in sweet accord. 
 The Altruism of science comes to be 
 At one with great Christ's ancient Agape ! " 
 
 Out of the plains lift the mountains, 
 Out of the mountains pours wealth, 
 
 Out of rough rocks flow fair fountains. 
 Out of the fountains sweet health, 
 
 Out under hills creep green meadows, 
 Under thin soil hides a sphere, 
 
152 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Out of cloud-frowns God's soft shadows, 
 
 Out of dark trials bright cheer ! 
 Out from the uight the stars glisten, 
 
 After long struggle comes ease, 
 Out of earth's tumults we listen 
 
 For the Coming of Christ and His Peace ! 
 Out from dissensions of sages 
 
 Truth as from promiseless clod. 
 Out from the conflicts of ages 
 
 Kingdom and Glory of God! 
 
 " Meetly, My children, sing ye forth your joy 
 At thought of Christ and His long reign of 
 
 peace ; 
 Peace in the soul that knows My parent-heart, 
 Peace in the conscience manful for the right, 
 Peace in the life at concord with itself, 
 Peace in the Church where now rude rancors 
 
 rule, 
 Peace in the home where peace at-home should 
 
 be. 
 Peace in the rival toils and trades of men, 
 Peace among jarring factions of the State, 
 'Twixt Christian Nations peace from Christless 
 
 strife ; 
 Thrice happy Earth, peace be within thy walls. 
 Prosperity within thy palaces ! 
 
 " Meetly and sweetly, O My children, sing ! 
 In all this world lie worlds of worlds asleep ; 
 But Morning dawns, and quickly forth they 
 rise. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 153 
 
 As at some Resurrection, when sounds clear 
 
 From near and far the trumpet ; then from 
 plains, 
 
 Seas, mountains, shall they come, — long buried 
 mights ; 
 
 And from beneath dead deserts shall they 
 spring. 
 
 From buoyant air, and yet more tenuous 
 ether. 
 
 And elements subtiler still compared where- 
 with 
 
 The very ether hath a curious grit. 
 
 In Christ all life is made alive again. 
 
 XYI 
 
 " Even as He saith : ' Lo, I am come so men 
 Have life, and have it more abundantly.' 
 Earth's blackest stones be but condensed fire ; 
 Her dark and deep abysms, net-worked 
 
 through 
 With arteries of ancient liquid light. 
 Pulsate as though some giant heart below 
 Throbbed to irradiate the world above. 
 The mountains, stoic and stern, that never 
 
 bend 
 The knee to Me, but standing stiff loud thunder 
 
 forth 
 Their worship, with empurpled pinnacle 
 Point toward My throne the homage of the 
 
 plains ! 
 
154 "THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 O, but these mountains, mausoleums vast 
 Of distant ages, where with tier on tier 
 Repose the generations of the dead, 
 Whose various life greeted the first faint dawn 
 Of procreant sun upon the planet ; these 
 Now yield their dead as though Christ's trump 
 
 did sound. 
 To rise in richer life, in flowers and fruits. 
 In singing harvests, towering forest growths. 
 In architectures, in great ships that put 
 The power of ocean to the strain ; then Man, 
 Forethought of Mine, though afterthought of 
 
 earth, 
 For whom the earth was born, for whom My 
 
 Son met death ! 
 
 "Ever I plow and plant the centuries 
 Anew, each crop good in its time, but yet 
 Of richer products prayer and prophecy. 
 In all the lands lie buried treasures, hid 
 Not by some pirate, but the generous years. 
 Strange ! Ice-huts keep My northern children 
 
 warm. 
 The stored-up winter serves for summer 
 
 health. 
 What if, when temperate zones grow chill for 
 
 want 
 Of fuel, I bid men search beneath the Poles, 
 And underneath the Borealis gleam. 
 And underneath the creaking glacier's glare. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 155 
 
 Where winds the fiercelier shriek for lack of 
 
 prey, 
 There search and find great treasuries of fire 
 And force, forerunner of new lengthening life, 
 Until still larger wealths along the shores 
 Of time be found ? Just as when many in 
 
 fear 
 Have asked whence nations shall draw gold, to 
 
 meet 
 Requirements of the multiplying race 
 In multiplying arts and industries; 
 In far forlorn Alaskan fields of cold 
 Where hungered mountain chasms yawn for 
 
 food, 
 The yellow Yukon and her confluent streams 
 Be not unlike the New-Jerusalem streets, 
 E'en of pure gold beneath transparent glass ! 
 
 " What, too, if th' ancient alchemists were 
 
 right ? 
 What if, when need shall rise. My learned ones , 
 Find out the art of Jesii' at the feast 
 Where His sweet presence gave to marriage 
 
 rite 
 More tender sacred ness, and many a water-pot 
 Of many a common element be turned 
 To sumptuous vase, brimful of wines and 
 
 wealths ? 
 And wherefore not ? Already, unaccused 
 Of heresy, shrewd savons speak of two, 
 
156 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Possibly three, possibly one alone 
 Essential prime, wherefrom has been begot 
 Creation's multiform atomity. 
 
 " Again, and wherefore not ? Look at this 
 
 ochrous ore. 
 The sower must not waste his seed on such 
 Infertile soil ! The children from their play 
 May never bring this dirt into the house ! 
 Yet but for some slight intermingling iron 
 How shall the life-sustaining harvests thrive ? 
 How trees be grown, or builded into homes? 
 This lacking, how great ships be on the seas ? 
 Was it not hence King Solomon got his nails 
 Abundantly for gold-bound doors and gates 
 Of temple most magnifical, to Me, 
 Of fame and glory throughout all the lands ? 
 
 " 'Tis the same all round stuff that stains the 
 
 clay, 
 With delicate art transforms the crystal pale 
 To many a gem of reddening radiancy ; 
 Then, as though these were nought, the plum- 
 ages 
 Of happy songsters in the wood shall be 
 As bright and merry as their madrigals. 
 This genuine child of clay, strong grown, hav- 
 ing tried 
 His art on pebbles and on birds, is loth 
 To make an end thereof ; and every bush 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 157 
 
 Shall blaze with jewelry ; each flower in field 
 Or forest, atop the most aspiring pride 
 Of wooded knoll, or modest like thee, dear 
 Arbutus, flower I love much, 'neath dead 
 
 leaves 
 And snows blooming to grateful fragrance ; 
 
 each 
 Hath bloom and blossom tinged thereby. 
 
 Then this 
 Brave artist, as with coronet of flame, 
 With broader brush rich Autumn's nutted 
 
 hills 
 Eussets and crimsons, to match well the glow 
 And glory of the sunset skies. This same 
 Plain stuff doth dare to touch fair maiden 
 
 cheek 
 With blush and flush of beauty, and whole- 
 some soul ; 
 And nerve and stiffen arm and spirit of man 
 For masterful encounter with the wrong. 
 And knightly might and courage for the 
 
 right ! 
 Transcendent triumph in divine emprise ! 
 Such Iron as held the Saviour to the Cross 
 Helps hold to Him else weakening sons of 
 
 men ! 
 
 " Of gems, by the way, I spake. Earth is a 
 
 gem 
 On the fair finger of the Queen of Night ; 
 
158 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 An antique jewel cut by Mine own art, 
 Rough handled by the elements, sad worn 
 By its rude handing down from age to age ; 
 Intaglioed by the seas, and cameoed 
 In continents that face Me with their prayers ; 
 Fields smooth with th' smoothness of a child's 
 
 soft cheek, 
 Its mountains creased and wrinkled with its 
 
 years ; 
 Yet looked at from afar, divinely, this 
 Imperial gem doth glow and blaze and praise 
 Transplendently among the stars of heaven ; 
 First having such rare qualities of substance 
 As few spheres other have ; and next its own 
 Inherent glory hath been well transformed, 
 Incarnadined and glorified by Him, 
 Who, with a love stronger than bands of steel, 
 Auguster and more radiant than the sun. 
 So chivalrously redeemed My wandering ones, 
 That when I come to make My jewels up 
 This gem shall outshine all upon My crown ! 
 
 " Wherein is parable. I say not now, 
 
 (Since Nature's secrets 'tis not Mine 
 
 Rash to disclose — lest men shall lose the joy 
 
 And inspiration of well-paid research,) 
 
 I say not now, such interchange exists ; 
 
 Nor that one matter all such forms may take ; 
 
 Nor say I what is Matter, what is Soul, 
 
 Nor how one may the other interdwell, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 159 
 
 As in plain Man, in Christ ine£fably ; 
 Nor what that subtle essence of this or that 
 Which Kesurrection predicates and shall 
 More clearly show ; though this I ask the wise 
 Philosophers who to Lord Motion would 
 Kesolve it all ; How may this strange thing 
 
 be, 
 Since motion means a real somewhat to move ? 
 On these not now I dogmatize. Nature 
 Is her own wise interpreter to such 
 As reverently seek, nor would I choose 
 To spoil that fine exhilaration, nor 
 That broader growth of soul that comes of 
 
 search 
 Profound. 
 
 " Nature, be it well understood. 
 Is not alone the outward rind which oft 
 Is coarse and acrid, but the luscious fruit 
 Within ; not the creased bark, — the spines, 
 
 the wens. 
 Nor mystic foliage, nor brave trunks of trees, 
 Alone ; but that sweet extract of the rills 
 And hills which up and down so silently 
 Convoys each atom, building up the bush 
 Into the forest's towering pride. Nor this 
 Only is Nature ; but, far deep within 
 The vital sap there flows more silently 
 The liquid life of My pure Spirit. This 
 Is Life of life, Nature all nature 'neath ; 
 
i6o THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 And who would her well understand must 
 
 keep 
 In his deep soul this rich indwelling life. 
 This is true Substance, having myriad forms." 
 
 Matter and spirit, ethers, pulses, these 
 Be few contents with crude analyses; 
 Only let each prove perfect in its sphere, 
 And its own mission honor and revere; 
 Only let Soul, supremest under Me, 
 To the All-Soul attent and yielding be, — 
 And Cana's wedding festival anon 
 Invites the benedictions of God's Son; 
 And humblest earthen water-jars refine 
 To golden amphorae of golden wine! 
 
 " Ay, what shall Cana's miracle attest ? " 
 
 O Hallowed Day! O fairest Feast! 
 
 Where Jesu glad consents to be, 
 "Where, none more welcome than the least, 
 
 Love holds her jubilee ! 
 
 O, not in Cana's humble room, 
 
 But wheresoe'er His kindred meet, 
 
 Jesu, the Church's own Bridegroom, 
 Each guest doth welcome greet. 
 
 Hither let all draw near and see 
 The wondrous wisdom of the Lord, 
 
 His clemency in majesty, 
 And hear His helpful word! 
 
 Beside His board in peace recline; 
 If food be lacking, bread is He; 
 If wine, behold the life divine 
 ' He poureth free for thee! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL i6i 
 
 Our earthen vessels, frail and slim 
 
 He turns to carven urns of gold, 
 And fills them to the flowing rim 
 
 With wine-wealth manifold. 
 
 Dear Jesu, these poor hearts of stone 
 
 Convert to vessels of Thy grace. 
 Filled with a fullness all Thine own, 
 
 Eeflectors of Thy face! 
 
 Be life Thine amphora amply filled 
 
 With tears made sweet, and toil an ease, 
 
 Which Thou with Thy dear love shalt gild, 
 New worldful of Thy peace! 
 
 So age on age the miracle 
 Goes on, wherein the Lord transforms 
 
 The ill to good, — strange spectacle. 
 Rainbows right out from storms! 
 
 O welcome, welcome, Jesu, be 
 
 The struggling centuries to come, 
 If through Thy gracious chemistry 
 
 Thou create Christendom ! 
 
 So, as at Cana's festival. 
 
 It shall again be said that Thou 
 Through prescient power and mystical 
 
 Hast kept the best till now! 
 
 " Lo, once again at wedding festival 
 Attends the Wedding-Guest who lustre gave 
 To Cana's simple rites. The stalwart World 
 Stands Bridegroom, and the Spirit, deeply 
 
 veiled 
 So her fair features be but dimly seen, 
 
i62 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 The Bride. The mystic words of mystic love 
 Are spoken ; they that once were twain be one ; 
 The pleased Christ His benediction gives ; 
 Their marriage is complete ; as with the 
 
 Church — 
 One Lord, one faith, one baptism, henceforth 
 
 one ! 
 O, ne'er such holy espousals ; ne'er such wise 
 Affection, promise of such progeny, — 
 My sons and daughters who shall prophesy. 
 Did not My gentle shepherd-poet write 
 That ' of the soul the body form doth take, 
 For soul is form and doth the body make ' ? 
 So when in one the soul and body meet. 
 The man, the life, the world, all is complete. 
 
 " "Whereby is signified ; the holy hour 
 Draws nigh, when reverent purpose doth in- 
 cline 
 The seen and unseen, body and fair soul, 
 To loving union ; each in other finding 
 Dear counterpart and object of true love ; 
 Such marriage-rite the Master glad attends ! 
 Whereby is further signified, that just 
 So far as Man, and then through hira the earth 
 Welcomes My love, I am to all e'en more 
 Than bride or bridegroom to the other. What 
 Said great Isaiah for Me once ? Man ! Earth ! 
 ' Thy Maker is thy husband ; Lord of Hosts 
 His Name, and thy Redeemer th' Holy One 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 163 
 
 Of Israel, God of the whole earth, He ! ' 
 Wide prayer was that of Jesu : ' May they all 
 Be one, as, Father, Thou in Me, and I 
 In Thee, that they may one become in Us ! ' 
 Whereby further is signified, the Hour 
 Draws nigh when, as at Cana, Christ again 
 By miracle transforms to priceless wine 
 All the plain waters that through homely soils 
 And rifted cliffs flow, and through poison fens. 
 And the great fountains of the seething sea ; 
 Whilst under His inspiring word dull Earth 
 Doth lose its vulgar earthliness, and turn 
 To splendent urn, worthy its wine divine. 
 Ay, by My glad right hand I pass it round 
 So stars may see its beauty and taste its grace ! 
 
 " O, dear to Me these Christly chemistries 
 
 That sweeten earth's most sweetest festivals ; 
 
 That choose the happy craft of making old 
 
 Things new, of finding finest essences 
 
 Of flavors and soft fragrances in dusts. 
 
 Of teazing blazing diamonds from the night. 
 
 Brave rights from wrongs, and e'en through 
 
 War's loud woes 
 Speeding Mine own dear Empress Mercy's 
 
 reign I 
 
 XYII 
 
 " Ay, dear to Me earth's incompletenesses 
 That cry for quick relief ! Jehovah would 
 
i64 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Grow weary, deem not worth the while to 
 
 live, 
 Might He not treasure spend and mercy and 
 
 might 
 Helping the helpless, blessing more the bless'd. 
 Hear what I hear from the vast voiceless 
 
 Void!" 
 
 Nothing am I, yet immensest the mind can conceive; 
 
 Nay, not conceive! As eternal as God ! For Himself 
 
 Deep in strange me findeth room for to dwell in. Indeed, 
 
 All else must have a Creator but such need ne'er mine. 
 
 Ever so anciently me God began to destroy; 
 
 Ever my regions invaded; yet have I as much 
 
 Quite as before ; and forever at me may He hurl 
 
 Infinite vrorlds, yet beyond Him, beyond Him, I fly. 
 
 Kunneth His word very swiftly yet swifter run I; 
 
 Me His keen eye cannot see, nor His ear overhear; 
 
 Nor sad complaint need I make I be nought in His sight; 
 
 Only 'tis I that defeat Him; beyond Him I hie ! 
 
 Yet is the Master not grieved I oiitreach His stretched arm, 
 
 Thanketh me He the long while for fresh space for His 
 
 worlds; 
 Yea, were He momently making spheres great beyond 
 
 spheres 
 Yet amplitudinous spaces through ajons were His ! 
 Thunder-loud to Him the calls of Unseen and Unheard; 
 To the eternal I am calls the vast I AM not ! 
 
 Naught am I, not am I, yet do more prayers come to me 
 Than universes of life and of light high upraise ! 
 Since I be weak I am strong; I unseen hold great lights; 
 O, 'tis the empty He fills; of the nought makes He all. 
 Fill me with Thee, ay, with Thee ! In the dark leave me not ! 
 To the eternal I am cries the great I am not ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 165 
 
 O, if His children, His creatui-es, like me would but pray, 
 O, would but open their voids and just let the God in, 
 Worlds upon worlds of fair light should be theirs, and the 
 
 Lord's; 
 Agelessly glory to God, worlds upon worlds without end ! 
 Here is more room for Thee, God ! Set more spheres in array. 
 Thy prayers for room, lo, I meet with my prayer for more 
 
 Thee! 
 To the eternal I am calls the endlessly endless am not! 
 
 " Ah, not in vain such voices from the Void ; 
 
 They hint My further opportunity, 
 
 And quick Mine eyes behold where naught is, 
 
 warm 
 My heart grows for what is to be, and here 
 And there, beyond Beyond, Mine eager hands 
 Plant infant seons on fresh infant spheres ! 
 And what hath been shall be ; and what hath 
 
 not 
 To life shall leap ; and unknown lights shall 
 
 burn ; 
 And souls unlike all souls that ever grew. 
 Clothed in unique, majestic, beauteous forms, 
 Such as those new and diverse atmospheres 
 And gravities necessitate, shall feel 
 The vital thrill, and by My help work out 
 The problems of their destinies ; if need 
 Be, helped therein by special grace of Him 
 Who by His incarnation and rich death 
 Hath won for Man his immortality. 
 For Earth her singular glory, for Himself 
 The holy Hallelujahs of the Worlds ! 
 
i66 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " But if sweet passion move Me to fulfill 
 The cry of I am not, what answer Mine 
 To children of Mine erst begetting, much 
 Endeared through love expended on them long. 
 And sacrifice of the Beloved One, 
 And love for love returned, though sparingly ; 
 Ah, still, whate'er their years, such younglings 
 
 yet, 
 
 Unskilled, weak, tempted, who just like dear 
 
 babes 
 Know not a loving parent's name, only 
 The father's smile, the mother's fond caress. 
 And laugh or cry as pleasure prompts, or pain ? 
 What means My Name ? Of Mine own right, 
 
 I AM ! 
 And then what stands it for, save that who 
 
 will 
 May use that right of will and close thereto 
 His hungering heart may name each varying 
 
 want ? 
 As though to say, I am thy Father, Mother, 
 
 Husband ; yea, 
 I AM thy Child, to mould Me as thou wilt, 
 In spiritual travail first, and then 
 In all thy spiritual patiences 
 With Me, thine inward life, in all thy loves 
 A Saviour ; or, a great spoiled Child angered 
 And angering thee to tumult ; ay, better 
 Were I still-born than misreared up — thy 
 
 curse ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 167 
 
 "Nay, by My Godhead I protest against 
 Undeification such ; better blot out 
 Were I, and all My stars, than thus to fail 
 Of what I AM thy God for ! Nay, not so ; 
 My Name ineffable shall mean to thee 
 Blessings ineffable, and that who will 
 May use that right of will, and to I am 
 May add what most godlikest title he 
 May like, in heaven or earth, or right by hell, 
 Face heavenward ! Almost I envy those 
 Blest parents on the earth whose children 
 
 trust 
 Them so. What I do infinitely crave 
 Is that My children understand, love, like. 
 Me downrightly ; that I may bless them so. 
 An infinite pain, that infinite Fatherhood 
 Be trusted, fondled, and obeyed with less 
 Delight than graceless human parenthoods ! 
 
 "Nor care I how My children this great 
 
 Name 
 Pronounce, — Adonai, Elohim, Jehovah, 
 Yahwe, — or whether awed affection stands 
 In worship mute before the Lord Jhvh ! ^ 
 Only if heart of Man the heart of God 
 Doth seek, and trusting tell its humble need, 
 Such creed My soul Avith rare delight doth 
 
 read, 
 Such fairest prayer I grateful speed to heed. 
 
 ^ The Hebrew unpronounceable divine name. 
 
1 68 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " Nor mind I though, unknowing this ra3'stic 
 
 Name, 
 By other style they call Me, such as they 
 By their poor infant-parents have been taught ; 
 Nor though they lisp and stammer in their 
 
 laud 
 And prayer. If, John-like, they lay troubled 
 
 heads 
 Upon My bosom silently ; or if. 
 Dear-baby-like, they peer into Mine eyes 
 And laugh ; or stroke My cheek with chubby 
 
 hands — 
 Or lean and skinny through some starving 
 
 woe; 
 I kiss them with My kisses o'er and o'er ! 
 Ay, if, their eyes unopened yet to th' light. 
 They stretch their tiny hands as if for Mine, 
 And, finding, leave them in My tender grasp 
 As to My leading e'en then gently yielding; 
 I will, I will, their Father be ! 
 
 "Or if 
 The little helpless nurslings toward My breast 
 Keach up, and o'er and o'er for mother-cheer 
 Shall feel, then Mother I be ; and each soft 
 
 knoll 
 Of fruitfulness shall be a nursing breast ; 
 And the wide swelling bosom of the sea; 
 And the round globe, all mountain-nippled 
 
 o'er 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 169 
 
 Like her of Ephesus, the many-breasted, — 
 
 (Nay, far unlike unfruitful Artemis, 
 
 Though she were heaven-descended, though 
 
 had wings 
 To mount the skies again, though by each 
 
 hand 
 Might lead a lion leaping to the chase ;) 
 Ay, unlike her in sportful fruitlessness, 
 My many-breasted earth her bounteous milk 
 Should give to feed My babes ; and sun and 
 
 moon 
 And fervid star their palpitating breasts 
 Should earthward curve to give them nourish- 
 ment ! 
 O, these but shadows be of heavenly light, 
 Dim symbols of the mother-love of God 
 Upon whose bosom infant weakness, ay. 
 And infant penitence, their aching heads 
 May rest, sobbing their prayers ; whiles I 
 Straight fold them in My soft, safe, sweet 
 
 caress. 
 And stroke them down to quiet, and nourish 
 
 them 
 So they fall soon to sleep, then wake to laugh ! 
 O, can a mother her sucking child forget, 
 Nor have compassion for the son of her 
 
 womb ? 
 Yea, though she may, yet ne'er forget will I ! 
 Nor useless labor Mine, but sweet reward. 
 Yea, have ye never read : ' Out of the mouth 
 
1 70 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 Of babes and sucklings Thou hast perfected 
 
 praise ' ? 
 O, I too, patriarch-like, shall be bereaved. 
 If of My Children I bereaved be ! 
 
 " The prayers that fly from souls distressed and 
 
 blind 
 With tears I catch, as arrows on the shield ; 
 My thought not being whither the arrow flies, 
 But whether aimed well, with purpose straight, 
 And with full strain of soul, so th' arrow flies 
 With one's full draw ; and if so be, I'll see 
 The arrow finds the shield, or — shield finds 
 
 arrow 1 " 
 
 'Tis well to know our life's a school of training; 
 
 On benches hard we writhe through many a day; 
 Our lessons needing many a kind explaining; 
 
 With teachers dull and cross we make essay 
 To spell the mysteries out, ofttimes complaining; 
 
 Yet happy we, that time not far away 
 Shall all our toil with worthy wealth repay. 
 
 We be young archers; and our prayers go flying 
 
 Hither and thither o'er life's mystic field; 
 What God asks is we do our faithfullest trying 
 
 To hit His shield; and if it be revealed 
 We aimed well, our utmost force applying, 
 He says — liking the way the bow we wield: 
 "Shield finds the arrow that missed the aimed-at 
 shield!" 
 
 " So, if sweet passion move Me to fulfill 
 
 The Void's imploring calls, and then yet more 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 171 
 
 The half-unconscious cries of helpless babes ; 
 What answer Mine to souls of faith and brawn 
 Who Me have learned to serve ; great spirits 
 
 that burn 
 For holy deeds, court perils for My sake, 
 And wait intent and eager for My will ? 
 Such men, and th' causes they stand stoutly for. 
 Be filled with Holy Ghost. Yet still of Him 
 The more they hold, the ampler room for 
 
 more ! 
 Spake not these visitants from worlds afar 
 Of great ' Earth's very emptinesses filled 
 With Deity ; Creation's fullnesses 
 For Him yet finding room ; vast underworlds 
 Of God ; of God in God ; of God outside 
 Of God'? Where most I dwell and thor- 
 
 oughest. 
 Eight there is call for Me imperative. 
 If Man within his bosom deep God's Yoice 
 Shall hear, shall not I hear Him and obey ? 
 I ask nor men nor angels bend in prayer 
 Where I pay not My richest reverence ! 
 Deep was the thought of Jesu when He 
 
 taught : 
 ' Who to the least of these My little ones 
 Good doeth, it he doeth unto Me.' 
 
 " Ay, unto Me ; the Soul of very soul, 
 
 Of life the Life ; wherefrom, wherein, whereto, 
 
 All being is ; ay, Me, in man the God 
 
172 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Who only makes him man ! This son of man, 
 Yet more this son of God, tingling all through 
 With noble blood and purpose eminent, 
 vEons behind him of persistent wars ; 
 ^ons ahead — e'en now, as down some long 
 High-arched banquet hall, illuminate 
 With joy, he sees the banneretted walls 
 Already signalling his hasting triumphs. 
 Him shall I not attend to when he calls ? 
 
 " 'Tis Mine own Yoice within him that I hear. 
 First by My Son divine made I from naught 
 The earth and set it 'mong the glittering orbs, 
 And then by His redeeming was it born 
 Anew ; now by these sons and daughters 
 
 build 
 I it into a radiance supreme 
 O'er all the constellations of the skies ; 
 My New Jerusalem out of heaven come down, 
 These souls her flaming seraphs round My 
 
 Throne 
 Whereon in majesty magnific sits 
 The Son, My King of Kings and Lord of 
 
 Lords ! "" 
 
 Now shall the Kingdoms of this world become 
 The Kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ! 
 Forever and forevermore reigns He ! 
 "We give Thee thanks, O Lord, Lord God Almighty, 
 Who art and wast and art to come; because 
 Unto Thyself Thou takest power, and reignest! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 173 
 
 XYIII 
 
 " Right wisely shall He rule who wisely loves ; 
 Nor His to hurt, nor to destroy in all 
 My holy mountain ! He with happy art 
 Of conquest blendeth gracious sovereignty ; — 
 As generous nations deal with isles redeemed 
 From bondage to the blinded bigots, strange 
 Unpriestly priests, whoredoms at very shrines 
 Of Mary, taxes throttled beggary yields 
 To pay the purse-proud persecutors' fees — 
 To such, a noble nation freely grants 
 A freedom to be free ; free in their hearts 
 And hands, their homes, their hopes, freedom 
 
 from man 
 So they be free toward God ! Then shall their 
 
 shores 
 Welcome a friendly commerce, all their hills 
 Leap as before the Lord with fruitful palms ; 
 And chivalrous men arise, and virtuous dames ; 
 And sons and daughters stand and serve and 
 
 sing. 
 Such freedoms, treasures, children, giveth the 
 
 King ! 
 
 " Lo, who shall count the islands of the main 
 That heave their heads to breathe My vital 
 
 air? 
 Or measure oceans that bemoan their wraths, 
 Nor dread their fate — ' Let there be no more 
 
 sea'? 
 
174 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Who, count the mountains that on reverent 
 
 brow 
 My sacred chrism receive, and stately stand. 
 As consecrated priests ; as prophets, too, 
 That My truth see afar? Who, count the 
 
 woods 
 That bend before My breath in holy prayer 
 My sacramental waters to receive ? 
 Who, all the plains that on their tables spread 
 The everlasting eucharistic feasts ? 
 Or who, the deserts that long years have lain 
 With hearts sore prostrate o'er their barrenness 
 Till that there is a God they have forgot ; 
 Yet underneath whose sterile sands there flow 
 Impatient streams that, hearing My clear 
 
 Voice, 
 Shall them surprise with fragrant, fertile 
 
 bloom ? " 
 
 Bloom on, ye Deserts; from waste years surcease; 
 Calm you, ye Seas; Messiah speaks your Peace; 
 Mountains, behold, the darkness is withdrawn; 
 With torches gleaming, hail the hastening Dawn ! 
 The Lord doth come with all His richest stores; 
 O Prince of Peace, Thy princely reign begin ! 
 Lift up your heads, ye Everlasting Doors ! 
 The King, the King of Glory shall come in ! 
 
 " Now let My Noblemen to lordly tasks ! 
 This their own Day, and Mine. Ye who the 
 
 signs 
 By clearer light discern, be men. In these 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 175 
 
 Colossal years sleep wakingly the fires 
 Of generations, Down to you hath come 
 From hero-sires good stuff for martyrs. Kich 
 From their historic deeds your heritage ! 
 Their hymns of faith still thrill to chivalry. 
 Right well they lived the Bibles that ye read, 
 Their margins all illumined by their blood — 
 That not for cowardness to crimson blushed — 
 Limned to lifelikeness of their Lord and 
 Christ ! 
 
 "How hath Sir Truth like fearless warrior 
 
 waged 
 The fight ! "What arms, equipments, battle- 
 grounds ; 
 At times defeat that nerved to stronger strain ; 
 Then triumphs that for new ones edged new 
 
 zest! 
 Truth, first to last a hardy Hero, yet 
 From age to age with choicer arras arrayed, 
 Tutored in strategy, with comradeships 
 From hostile camps the fight of faith to fight ! 
 
 " This Chieftain, at the first prime savage, clad 
 In raiment scant, in figure fine, at home 
 With the dark dangers of the woods, keen- 
 eyed, 
 Among the brutes Lord Brute, straight- hearted 
 
 he 
 As straight his arrow-flight at foe. Later 
 
176 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 A wealthy Sheikh, his browsing beasts among 
 Obeisant to the stranger, to his guest 
 Frank, unbetraying host ; to enemies 
 Fierce as the mad simoom ; in thoughtful night 
 Student of stars and God ; precursor he 
 Of those Wise Men who in the East My Star 
 Beheld, and with their golden gifts hasted 
 To welcome and adore the Bethlehem Babe, 
 
 "Came then My priestly prophet-king; true 
 
 priest, 
 Since in his soul burned sacrificial love ; 
 Prophet, since love hath vision and godlike 
 
 speech ; 
 And genuine king, because like prophet he 
 Had insight, therefore foresight, so real realm 
 And rule ; his, only, right divine of kings. 
 To him the writing of My Word did I 
 Commit, My Covenant and Testament, 
 My special grace and inspiration under, 
 Whereof th' essential substance stands forever, 
 'Interpretation flexible, alway 
 Progressive with the fuller Holy Ghost,' ("^ 
 As men have light to see the light therein. 
 As saith My Son : ' I have yet many things 
 To say to you, but now ye cannot bear 
 Them. When the Spirit of Truth is come, He 
 
 shall 
 To full truth guide, and things to come make 
 
 known.' 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 177 
 
 "Thenceforth till now have risen men of might 
 All peoples of the earth among, e'en those 
 To whom only bare echoes of the song 
 Have swung, and vagrant visions of the 
 
 night. 
 But chiefliest among the happy heirs 
 Of Bible, Sacrament, Church, Charity; 
 (In whose sweet names, alas, what damned 
 
 deeds 
 Of darkness sometimes wrought !) men of true 
 
 might. 
 With vision vast, with breadth and brawn of 
 
 grace. 
 Who low have laid demons of earth and air, 
 Angelic truths and ministries have planted ; 
 And builded holy palaces wherefrom 
 The enthroned Christ wider forevermore 
 Extends His own divine benignant reign ! 
 
 "Visions be theirs, great world-compelling 
 
 truths ; 
 Labors herculean lightened much by love ; 
 Nor more they heirs of all past ages than 
 Founders of wealths and healths for time to 
 
 come ; 
 Beacons that out upon the wave-swept cliff 
 Dare stand alone in the tempestuous dark 
 To warn the stranger off the dangerous way; 
 Toilers in mines of blackness so the earth 
 Get light ; chivalric chieftains who for truth — 
 
178 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Though churchless world and worldly church 
 should curse 
 
 Them to the face — clear the bright path for 
 what 
 
 My Spirit may reveal of sacred New, 
 
 "While holding firm the olden, golden Good 1 
 
 That olden, golden Good, for which have 
 stood 
 
 My valiant martyrs, Christ's proud Brother- 
 hood, 
 
 Sealing their faith in sacrificial blood ! " 
 
 Not less lov'st Thou the silver shafts of dawn, 
 Nor less the midday's lustre on the lawu, 
 Nor less the aureate splendors of the west, 
 Nor less the stars that sing thy babes to rest! 
 
 Rich be these days in ancient and in new, 
 Eich in true souls that either reverent view, 
 In lovesi lives, gospels, conquests that are come. 
 And thy yet Christlier conquering Christendom! 
 
 O sacred Time for which the past was born. 
 Of God's great Day auspicious, radiant mom, 
 Heaven and the earth have waited for thee long; 
 Now, long thy shining, clear thy song, and long! 
 
 "Yours now, My Chosen, mission high-re- 
 
 now^ned, 
 Being true Sons of Mine, to be new christs. 
 Creators and redeemers, making old 
 Things new, and out of seeming nothingness 
 Compelling spheres of service and of joy. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 179 
 
 "Lo, where Euphrates pours her snow-born 
 
 stream 
 There now be found among the mournful 
 
 mounds 
 Of that Great Babylon I builded not, 
 As likewise where the tortuous Tigris winds 
 Her weary way, as though she might again 
 Her mighty Nimroud see rising to build 
 The city that I spared though her own sons 
 Destroyed ; the chastely graven seals, couches 
 Of carven ivories, the tell-tale tiles. 
 The human-headed bulls and lions fierce 
 That stood for beastly-hearted conquerors, 
 Sceptres of gold, and lions' jewelled eyes, 
 The jasper, amethyst, emerald cylinders. 
 With royal dates and conquests all o'erwrit. 
 The very bricks the slaves trod on impressed 
 With the proud names and titles of the kings. 
 All these, o'erawed by their own ancientness. 
 Rehearse in sacred silences to these 
 Free-questioning years the olden Hebrew 
 
 Scripts 
 Of My creative and upbuilding power. 
 The low estate of man through primal sin, 
 The fearful fate befalling all the sons 
 And daughters of mankind ; save only him 
 Who humbly hearkened to My warning voice, 
 Rebelled against the mad rebellion round. 
 And, warned by Me of things not seen as yet, 
 With pious fear prepared his house to save 
 
i8o THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 In heaven-plann'd ark, condemned the world, 
 
 and heir 
 Became of righteousness which is by faith ! 
 
 " So in her sackcloth and her ashes robed 
 Doth Nineveh the highways of to-day 
 Walk up and down, better than ancient Jonah 
 Proclaim My message, preach My word, and 
 
 cry 
 To unbelieving Jonahs of the guilt 
 Of sin, and th' tender mercies of their God I 
 
 "And thou, benignant Nile, who from thy 
 
 source 
 Among the equatorial heights and heats, 
 Where the Moon-Mountains fain would kiss 
 
 the stars, 
 Dost lordly bring the treasures of the south 
 To spread them through the rainless desert 
 
 lands. 
 And give thy gift of Egypt to the world, — 
 Pouring thy wealth as many miles along 
 As the rich Kiver of Life thou signifiest 
 Hath rolled its waters of salvation down 
 The years ; thou knowest how upon thy 
 
 shores 
 Most venerable dynasties have risen 
 And fallen, with arts and learnings vast ! O, 
 
 not 
 For naught thou lived'st. As in bulrush ark 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL i8i 
 
 Among thy waters smiled serene the babe 
 Who was to found My chosen Kingdom, so 
 'Twas thine to cradle many an empire grand, 
 And many a noble mission ; generous 
 Inspirer of the arts and arms and aims 
 Of peoples who, outlasting Egypt's prime, 
 Should tearlessly behold her mournful end ! 
 
 "Nay, Egypt, liv'st thou still! Thou who 
 
 of eld 
 Did'st nurse the babe that gave the Hebrew 
 
 law. 
 And- afterward safe-hide till Herod's death 
 The Yirgin's Infant who all law fulfilled, 
 And in brave death won life for human-kind ; 
 In sacred hiding hast thou held till late 
 Thy priestly learnings and thy reverend rites, 
 Thy magic arts, the secrets of thy skill 
 That planted firm thy mountain pyramids 
 Midst shifting sands, (nomadic like thy tribes 
 That rove !) and builded palaces and tombs 
 And columned temples that would fain at- 
 test 
 The might and majesty of God ! Thy Sphynx, 
 Thy Sphynx, mysterious Egypt, is thyself ! 
 Thy mummied kings already find in these 
 All-quickening times their resurrections ! 
 
 Types 
 Of genuine resurrections yet to be. 
 And of thy cherished immortalities, 
 
i82 THE DIVINE PROCESSIOMJL 
 
 True sign ! Thy now unsealed hieroglyphs 
 Teach these and coming years that, howe'er 
 
 dark 
 Mine own deep mysteries may be in grace 
 Or providence, some day by patient souls 
 And true their meaning shall be learned, e'en 
 
 such 
 As in most desert places hide. 
 
 " Thou know'st 
 That old basaltic stone, Kosetta's sands 
 Among, and now an hundred years agone 
 By Europe's most accomplished murderer 
 Made known, whereon in triple speech was 
 
 writ 
 A record by the ancient Memphis priests. 
 For long it baffled modern wit ; at last 
 By some whose wisdom seemed to have the 
 
 pith 
 Of piety the meaning was found out. 
 The Greek divulged the strange demotic 
 
 tongue. 
 These two the Hieroglyphic riddles did 
 Expound; and thus informed these kingly 
 
 times 
 Stand face to face with thy proud ancientness. 
 Interrogate thy mighty pyramids, 
 Enter thy shrines and palaces to hear 
 Thy kings relate their conquests, and thy 
 
 priests — 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 183 
 
 Their lips unsealed — disclose the mysteries 
 From ages and from generations hid ; 
 So men amidst thy solemn silences 
 Hear all the learning of th' Egyptian land 1 
 
 " Illustrious Egypt, how thy sovereign Nile 
 Doth hint My mystic and majestic Stream, 
 That down the long and peopled years 
 Beneficently flows; upon whose banks 
 Luxuriant harvests thrive, and cities grow 
 Of grace and wide munificence ; no tombs 
 For death to build and death to decorate, 
 But living temples in whose reverend courts 
 Love's sacrificial fires forever burn, 
 And inmostly My holy glory glows ! 
 
 " Thy sands, O Egypt, have their sanctities ! 
 To them in times remote were given in trust 
 The temples and the tombs, the granaries 
 Wherein My youthful patriarch- prince did 
 
 store 
 The products of the seven plenteous years 
 To feed else woeful years of dearth and death. 
 The palaces on which My people toiled 
 "Whose angered bricks to-day the stubble show 
 That pricked and tare their tired feet as they 
 Forth trudged for straw to suit the tyrant's 
 
 whim. 
 Ah, might they then have known, might suf- 
 ferers now 
 
1 84 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 But think, of Him whose feet so travel-worn 
 Were pierced by pitiless nails, His tender brow 
 By thorn-crown. His great heart by human 
 
 scorn ! 
 For sake of Him dire tasks would lightsome 
 
 seem, 
 Tears but a dream, and pain a joy supreme ! 
 
 " Do not thy Pithom-Succoth stones still mark 
 The way My people from oppression fled. 
 Until at last, O ye benevolent Waters, 
 Ye saw them near; then awed and awful 
 
 stood 
 On either side to let them safely pass ; 
 Then deep in death engulfed the hostile 
 
 host?" 
 
 O dread Siroccos! O Siroccos sweet! 
 Your furnace breath hath sometime healthful heat! 
 Your burning blasts that frighten Afric's land 
 Blow o'er far northern gardens, soft and bland ; 
 "While many a script from some great prophet's hand 
 Have ye kept safe beneath your sheltering sand! 
 
 "Ay, better than t' have handed down the 
 
 years 
 The Pharoah's solemn dust with features stern 
 As though e'en yet an empire begged his 
 
 mercy, 
 ( Not his alone who brake the Hittite power. 
 And treasure-cities built, and temples grand, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 185 
 
 Mixing their mortar with Mine Israel's blood, 
 But his also, the founder of his race, 
 Great architect of Egypt's dynasties ; — 
 Strange now their silence in these noisy 
 
 times ! — ) 
 Better than this, your mission, winged Winds, 
 And winged Sands, to be sarcophagi 
 Wherein be safe entombed the kingly words 
 And kingly deeds of holy heroes, choice 
 Mementoes of the Christian origins ! 
 
 " O happy Pools, nestling near burning wastes, 
 That 'mong your lily fragrances brought forth 
 That learned reed, whose flowers were crowns. 
 Its pith for furnitures, its roots for fire. 
 Its stem for aught from sandals up to ships ; 
 Learned Papyrus, stored with memories 
 That touch upon the immemorial years ; 
 How do your waters in the sunlight dance 
 In joy of rearing such most priceless life ! 
 Most beautiful Papyrus ! Who would deem 
 Thy tender stems might such libraries make 
 As gave the Alexandrian city high renown ? 
 Yet not her sacrilegious burning, nor 
 Hath length of years, brought all thy work to 
 
 naught. 
 Sirocco's flaming sword protected thee ! 
 The threatening sands that buried, succored 
 
 thee! 
 Among a myriad mounds there slumber yet 
 
i86 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 The bodies of dead learnings that but wait 
 For resurrection. Each with a sweet pain 
 Cries : ' Lift the stone, and thou shalt find 
 
 me.' Ay, 
 Lift up the stones ; ay, lift the sands ; and ye 
 Sacred memorials shall find of Me ! 
 Drear Lybian deserts blossom like a rose 
 With the sweet Gospel Logia they disclose! " 
 
 Jesus saith: " Ye must look kindly, 
 
 Mote from brother's eye to cast; 
 And ye may not see My kingdom 
 
 Save ye verily, truly fast; 
 Yea, except ye keep real Sabbath 
 
 Ye shall not the Father see; 
 For the sons of men do grieve Me, 
 
 That so blind of heart they be! " 
 Logion Fourth hath one word, " Beggary! " 
 
 Thus is human need defined ? 
 Jesus saith: " Where one such soul is 
 
 There am I with succor kind. 
 Raise the stone, and thou shalt find Me, 
 
 Cleave the wood, and there am I! 
 Lo, alas, in Mine own country 
 
 I, the Prophet, vainly cry; 
 Rather than have Me to heal them. 
 
 My poor people droop and die ! ' ' 
 Jesus saith: " My city, builded 
 
 High upon the steadfast Rock, 
 Cannot from the world be hidden. 
 
 Nor shall mind the earthquake shock! " 
 
 Seven sayings be unriddled. 
 
 One may not be now made known; 
 
 Lord, as ages follow ages, 
 Open to Thine Own Thine own! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 187 
 
 " O Egypt, dark with rustling, shadowing 
 
 wings, 
 Swift in thine ancient vengeances, exult 
 Not over-greatly at Assyria's fall — 
 To be so shortly followed by thine own ! 
 Exult, that 'neath thy shadowing wings of 
 
 power 
 Have nestled safe such precious sanctities, 
 Until they feel this present thrill of life. 
 And issue forth in happy, holy haste 
 To certify the Christian verities ! " 
 
 Lo, how dead ruins of the past be builded 
 Into the worthier structures of to-day, 
 
 And long lost lore and rusted truths, regilded, 
 Be set in fair and reverent array ! 
 
 From Ethiop's lofty, rock-outspringing fountains 
 Flows empire-building, world-enlightening Nile; 
 
 In clouded cloisters under Sinai's mountains 
 Hid Gospels wake to make earth's sadness smile. 
 
 Long prostrate kingdoms now revive their glory 
 As they Thy mighty wonders. Lord, record; 
 
 And pagan tongues rehearse the Christian story 
 And newly bid us keep Thy sacred Word! 
 
 " All which, My Children, hath this lesson 
 
 large : 
 The old confirms the new, the false the true. 
 These be like symbols of the large access 
 To Christianness that from unthought-of 
 
 realms, 
 And realms thought of as only full of ill, 
 
1 88 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 Now seasonably comes. Amidst the false 
 Grows truth, the soil oft strong by being run 
 To weeds. In pagan gardens be true trees 
 Of life ; but dwarfed amongst entangling vines, 
 Their beauteous flowers ill-pollened ; mostly 
 
 fruits 
 Unsweet ; save where some holy graft outlives 
 The ancient gardener, or goodly seeds 
 Have by some kindly bird of Paradise 
 Been carried from a distant gospel-land. 
 Often My garden hedge is broken down ; 
 Alas, that weeds should find their way there- 
 through 1 
 But, o'er the fallen stones My vine sometimes 
 Will find its way through thickets and the 
 
 thorns, 
 And on some heaven-aspiring forest tree 
 Crown graceful branches with the grateful 
 grape ! 
 
 XIX 
 
 " Meanwhile, no life so utterly alone. 
 Whether in time, in distance, or in thought, 
 But hath its varied contact, hath its good 
 To take or give ; and what I speak to souls 
 Others shall hear ; and what I thunder forth 
 Or whisper low is heard ere long by all. 
 The ferment of the atoms signifies 
 The universal firmament's unrest, 
 The liquid equilibrium of the spheres ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 189 
 
 "Behold how now from all the lands and seas 
 Float, on the tides of commerce, to each shore 
 Their precious products, all the numerous life 
 Of oceans, long-stored wealths of mines, the 
 
 fruit 
 Of loom and grinding mill, of bulk and brain. 
 The storm-torn mountains and the valley's corn ; 
 Ay, all the earth-wide waters and the air 
 By refluent tides their purity renew. 
 And keep th' eternal balance of th' globe. 
 As 'mong My stately stars it journeys on. 
 Descending and ascending endlessly ! 
 
 " And what is Life but one majestic sea 
 
 Of sovereign breadths and depths unpierced 
 
 by light ? 
 On her far shores alike old shattered hulks 
 And wakeful signal towers and steepled towns. 
 Cities renowned in crafts and ships and 
 
 wealths ; 
 And in her midst bright islands bathe and 
 
 laugh 
 Where sickness seeks the soft salubrious breeze ; 
 Where zephyrs sigh, but hint not angry storm 
 With sudden cyclone circling down to drown 
 The myriad music of the mystic main ! 
 Lo, on her bosom float the mystic ships ! 
 
 " They come ! the ancient galleons, built up 
 Like castles on the waves, freighted with stores 
 
190 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 The Middle- Ages wrought ; they come, the 
 
 ships 
 That once among the Isles of Greece with 
 
 pride 
 Conveyed what her illustrious sages taught ; 
 They come, the barques that from far Ophir's 
 
 mines 
 Brought gold abundant for Jehovah's House, 
 And from the Indies pearls and priceless gems ; 
 And yet they come ; they come as written : 
 
 The kings 
 Of Tarshish and the Isles shall presents bring; 
 The kings of Sheba and of Sebah, gifts ! 
 
 " They come, they go, over these mj'^stic seas 
 The mystic ships, with myriad mj^stic wares ; 
 Fabrics of ancient and of modern looms. 
 Most deftly done by delicate human hands. 
 Or loudly wrought by engines of such power 
 As late propelled the angry ships of war 
 That with two monstrous thunders deep in 
 
 death <"*) 
 Sank century-builded wrongs and tyrannies. 
 And resurrected Liberty to life ; 
 Freights from the mines ; and from the main 
 
 soft pearls ; 
 Gems that on breasts of king and kingling. 
 
 Beauty 
 And Beast, have proudly shone, or blushed for 
 
 shame ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 191 
 
 The spoils of war, and fruitfuller spoils of 
 
 toil; 
 'Longside thick tomes of bulky nothingness 
 Volumes Mine ancient and more modern seers 
 Have packed with learnings human and di- 
 vine ; 
 Choice cargoes of those sacrificial gifts 
 The centuries have to centuries handed down ! 
 Type of Mine own eternal Charity, 
 Thou restless, soundless, boundless, sovereign 
 Sea ! " 
 
 Ay, what is Life but one majestic sea 
 
 With winds and tides coursing unceasingly, 
 
 Conveying from the tropics to the pole 
 
 A genial glow and solace to the soul; 
 
 While from the north the cooling breezes bring 
 
 To sultry southern isle the hardier spring? 
 
 Meanwhile hath Life this privilege supreme, 
 
 That, like the mighty and mysterious Stream 
 
 Which from the Caribs hastens heated forth 
 
 To melt the threatening icebergs from the north, 
 
 It pours more procreant winds on every hand 
 
 Blessing or friendly or unfriendly land; 
 
 They little dreaming how an unseen sea, 
 
 Like unseen God, confers prosperity! 
 
 Through mystic oceans mystic rivers sm'ge 
 
 Soothing the seething isles, and scourging scourge 
 
 Away; the barren reefs awake to bloom, 
 
 And tempered breezes breathe their soft perfume! 
 
 O, if upon Life's mystic bosom broad 
 
 Might float some signal of the nearing God, 
 
 As he of Genoa spied the drifting frond — 
 
 And knew the land he sought lay just beyond! 
 
192 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " Therefore say I : My generous Noblemen 
 Have generous task on hand and generous 
 Reward. Heirs of the ages, they ! And what 
 Now is, is theirs to make in better wnse 
 The world's and Mine ! The commerce of the 
 
 seas 
 Floats all to them, and down the stream of 
 
 time 
 Drift all the treasures of the ancient years. 
 More potently than e'er before, all things 
 Be theirs, and they be Christ's, and Christ is 
 
 God's. 
 Theirs now to gather ancient stuffs and new, 
 Sort out the worthy, cast the cheap away ; 
 The tattered purples of real kings to mend, 
 Their crowns reset with jewels where the old 
 Are lost ; to rub away the must and rust, 
 Restore the primal lustre ; and to take 
 The time-worn books, erase the scribblings 
 
 babes 
 Have scratched upon their margins, and revive 
 The saintly Bibles and the Bible-saints. 
 Theirs now to choose the choicest gems of 
 
 truth, 
 "Whether from drift at some great mountain's 
 
 foot. 
 Or from its rocky and most richest heart ; 
 Whether from streams that through the classic 
 
 vales 
 Flow peacefully, or from some torrent wild, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 193 
 
 Or from the darksome depths whence India's 
 
 divers 
 Bring gems that hint the Pearl of priceless 
 
 price. 
 Theirs to be true to Truth ; nor may they 
 
 turn 
 The eye one point from light, nor shrug with 
 
 fear 
 Their shoulders at My Voice, or loud or still ! 
 Theirs, conscious of My deep indwelling Soul, 
 To note Mine inmost pressure ; glad to give 
 The world what I give them, mindful of 
 
 naught 
 Save minding Me, and through Me ransoming 
 
 men ! " 
 
 I may not know the wondrous Ways 
 The Lord to ancient Prophets spake, 
 
 His Poets bade to sing their lays, 
 And Kings His conquests undertake; 
 
 An Angel with his flaming sword ; 
 
 A night-reared Ladder, Angel-trod; 
 A burning Bush, whence spake the Word; 
 
 A still, small Whisper, straight from God; 
 
 A Nathan's speech, Thou art the man; 
 
 A sore sense of a Nation's need; 
 A new and solemn Truth that ran 
 
 Into a People's sacred Creed; 
 
 A Seraph-song, the clouds among. 
 That scared but thrilled the Shepherd-heart; 
 
 A light Noon's strange effulgence flung 
 The persecutor's path athwart; — 
 
194 "THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 All this I may uot know, and should 
 Such Voice or Vision mine e'er be, 
 
 Perhaps appalled my spirit would 
 From His unwonted Presence flee! 
 
 Yet Dreams we dream, and Visions come, 
 And Voices speak to them that hear; 
 
 And Angels visit oft the home 
 That hails the hour when God draws near! 
 
 Pity, O Lord, the lives that turn, 
 Unlisteniug, from Thy sacred Speech, 
 
 When simply Thy sweet will to learn 
 Were more than worlds of worlds can teach 
 
 O, mine, among earth's silences, 
 
 To hear Thy low, soft-whispered thought, 
 
 And midst my human darknesses 
 Discern the Visions Thou hast brought! 
 
 Nor fearful, I, of some brave deed, 
 Some threatening foe, some Cross uncouth! 
 
 Only be mine Thy Cause to speed, 
 
 And love Thine inmost, utmost Truth ! 
 
 O Visions, shine! O Voices, speak! 
 
 God's worthiest work and will declare! 
 O manful Men, His semblance seek; 
 
 Trust Truth and Love; dear Duty dare! 
 
 " Visions and Voices yours, and Victories, 
 If well attent with open eye and ear 
 Ye catch the signs of these imperial times, 
 And set your courage to a high resolve. 
 The past is ripe ; ye may not now let rot 
 The fruits of fertile years, nor suffer aught 
 To kill My new and gracious gifts, whereof 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 195 
 
 Is now such precious promise for the world. 
 
 The very wrongs of ages fresh inspire 
 
 Brave souls to more magnific enterprise. 
 
 The hurts of human hearts make quick appeal 
 
 To human charities. The night invokes 
 
 The day ! All nature feels the pulse and stir. 
 
 My sons and daughters speed them to their 
 
 tasks ; 
 And Godhead, immanent now as ne'er before, 
 A new and worthier creation speaks, 
 With swift and startling sequence of events ; 
 Nay, reaches towards creation's nobler end. 
 Consummate flower and glory of the old ! " 
 
 Behold, another six days' work is done; 
 Behold, another Sabbath has been won ! 
 A Sabbath in Thy Paradise restored 
 Fairer than Eden with its flaming sword ! 
 
 XX 
 
 " What if I hint those far geonic years 
 Of these were types, and not ignoble ; though 
 In life so low, in work so slow, that each 
 Long second lasted while in heaven's tall 
 
 clock. 
 Light, like a jewelled pendulum, beat far 
 Across the starry disk, from Cassiopeia 
 To where the Centaur swings his club of fire ; 
 Yet worthier far be these whose seconds be 
 The heart-beats of the Universal Love ! 
 I say, those ancient days these symbolized. 
 
196 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 They were the earthy moulds in which I cast 
 My spiritual substance ; models in clay, 
 That I might see, and angels, and the worlds, 
 How such and such might suit Me and My 
 
 hosts. 
 And pleased was I ; they also ; and I called 
 Them good ; and after their image made I 
 
 these ! 
 In nature, and in man, and in the Christ's 
 Great empire, this same process sevenfold, — 
 After six days of toil the Sabbath rest ! 
 !Note what the great Creative Days attest ! 
 
 " To-day I sort the light from dark, and shoot 
 Through hopeless mists the gleaming shafts of 
 
 dawn. 
 To-morrow earth learns her mere earthliness 
 And of o'erbending skies of tears. Next day 
 Appears the solid ground, whereon may stand 
 Far hence, My sons, while round them threat- 
 ening roll 
 The billows of life's awful mysteries ; 
 The earth meanwhile at her glad industry 
 Of growing herbs and trees, just learning how 
 She may in later nurseries grow men. 
 Next wakes a subtle consciousness of day 
 And night, of self and other self, of earth 
 And higher heaven ; and the benignant sun 
 Appears, streaming his radiance o'er the 
 world ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 197 
 
 The moon also, who doth advantage take 
 Of dark, to show heaven's all-surroundingness, 
 And how no. distance parts Me from My work ; 
 No star so far but swings its lamp high up 
 The mystic stairs the untried traveller treads. 
 Now, too, the seas bring forth abundantly 
 To show how all My deeps be deeply filled 
 With joyous life to all such souls as see. 
 O, if Mine own might only understand 
 That only on the surface of the seas 
 The terrible billows rage, beneath is calm, 
 Peace undisturbed by wind or tide ! Far down 
 The depths which peering sun may ne'er ex- 
 plore. 
 There thrives a multitudinous gladsome life. 
 Dark waters My pavilion round about, 
 Where I the Lord them do keep secretly 
 From pride of man and from the strife of 
 
 tongues ! 
 — The fifth age hath its evening and its day. 
 
 " Now through another diuternit}'' 
 
 Of dark the sixth day dawns, wherein, as 
 
 though 
 The very ground were conscious and alert. 
 The cattle on a thousand hills upspring. 
 And all such beasts as upright stand, or creep 
 In lowly state, or at the fostering breast 
 Their tender younglings feed, thus nourishing 
 The filial trust and the parental love. 
 
198 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 These hint the afternoon's immortal work ; 
 Much that, alas, shall choose in mire to crawl, 
 But much that shall stand firm and face the 
 
 sky, 
 
 Much that on love's soft bosom soon shall 
 
 learn 
 The motherhood and fatherhood of God ! 
 
 " Then said I : Let us make Man in our image, 
 And let him have dominion over earth ! 
 Spirit is he, after our likeness, so 
 A godlike form to give th' enfolding clay. 
 After our likeness ; enigmatical Us ! 
 Intensive godhead fit for godlike work ; 
 Sharp challenge to Mine own infinity ; 
 In quality allied to the eternal Word, 
 The Spirit who o'er Chaos once did brood. 
 The Fatherhood whence ceaseless They pro- 
 ceed! 
 
 " Nor say I that no angels heard, nor say 
 I that no morning stars together sang, 
 Nor that the Sons of God shouted for joy ! 
 Nor say I not, O Nature, that I spake 
 To thee, asking thy counsel and thy help ! 
 Nay, spake I not to thee this wise ? ' Let us 
 Make Man in image and likeness of our own ! ' 
 Thine, Nature, in that outward form and state 
 Whereto thou wast for long time used, thine 
 own 
 
tHE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 199 
 
 Best dust, with thy best blood and spirit filled ; 
 
 Nay, not one moment of thine aeons, not 
 
 One atom of thy weighted globe, not one 
 
 Soft quiver of the breath, but should have hand 
 
 In fashioning the coming sons of men ! 
 
 Mine image, in high-thoughted reason, that 
 
 Imperial Ego that hath liberty, 
 
 Hath wisdom, conscience, spiritual sense, 
 
 Affections worthy of eternal life ! 
 
 In counsel thus most multitudinous 
 
 Created I in our own likeness, Man. 
 
 Of dust is he, yet chieflier of soul. 
 
 My child charged with earth's first immortal- 
 
 ness, 
 With leave of an enlarged capacity, 
 And with his growth the increase of his race. 
 And with his growth My wider sovereignty, 
 And with his growth more for the heavens to 
 
 do; 
 And for his life and growth The Wonderful 
 Is Babe of man and Babe of Very God ; 
 Augustest of immortal Miracles ! 
 
 "Then saw I everything that I had made 
 And called it good ; this called I very good. 
 The heavens and earth were finished, and their 
 
 hosts. 
 Evening and morning made the full sixth day. 
 Resting then from My long creative work — 
 The Seventh Day I hallowed and I blessed. 
 
200 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 But, lo, began the Sabbath, with the night — 
 As from the first all days had their beginning. 
 And 'twas as though the heavens affrighted 
 
 were, 
 They held so far away their darling stars 
 Lest they might catch some darkness from the 
 
 earth ; 
 Yet from their high safe distance would they 
 
 flash 
 As ne'er before ; though w^illing oft to wheel 
 Away and take the darkness off, so I 
 Th' effulgent sun might bring, and nigh and 
 
 square 
 Above the earth place him majestical. 
 
 " Then when withdrew the half-reluctant stars, 
 O, never burst such eager crimsoning dawn; 
 Ne'er had the noon with affluent splendors thus 
 Flushed all the world. So ardent burned the 
 
 Sun, 
 That down great years some pagans caught 
 
 the light 
 And after him named their prime festal day, — 
 That festal Da}^ that faded not, but glowed 
 More gloriously into its nobler self ; ("^> 
 As from the tomb of painfuller night arose 
 With'rare commingling rays the Sun 
 Of Righteousness, with healing in his wings ! 
 Hail, festal Sabbath Sunday of the world ! 
 Hail, Festal Day of earth and heaven ! Hail ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 201 
 
 " And this My Sabbath now ! This is My 
 
 rest, 
 My work, My beatification ! This 
 The Day for which all other days were made ; 
 For which I wrought, for which I prayed, for 
 
 whose 
 More fervid, further shining I implore 
 The implorations of the sons of men ! 
 To Me Creation calls, and I to her ; 
 (Each th' other's servant, each the other's 
 
 lord. 
 So far as each hath love :) ' Into Thy rest 
 Arise, O Lord, Thou, and the ark of Thy 
 
 strength ! ' 
 And each in other finding rest exclaimeth : 
 ' This is My rest forever, here My home ! ' 
 Ay, this Mine own — more than creation hath, 
 Since just begins she to find rest in love. 
 The six days' work, the carnal work, is done ; 
 Each issuing slow from darkness, and through 
 
 night 
 Passing to nobler day ; till now at length 
 'Tis as that shining light that, oft obscured, 
 More and more shineth to the perfect day. 
 Hail, Festal Day of earth and heaven ! Hail ! 
 
 " Such is the rest My children with Me share. 
 When, ended six days' toil, they cease there- 
 from. 
 And in communion with their Maker find 
 
202 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 A hallowing peace, foretaste of heaven's own ; 
 And in home-loves and sacred charities 
 Him copy who the Sabbath blessed anew. 
 
 " Such is the rest that for My saints re- 
 
 maineth 
 "Who in brave faith have wrought and borne 
 
 and conquered. 
 Blessed the dead who in the Lord die, for 
 They rest from work made labor through some 
 
 sin ; 
 They rest from labor ; but their works of love — 
 These cease not, but eternal follow them ! 
 They in that holy angel-sphere do serve 
 Both day and night ; but all so joyously 
 That night and day be quite alike to them, 
 Perpetual service their perpetual rest ! (^^) 
 
 " And such their rest, who, on the earth abid- 
 ing, 
 Make life mean love ; season each bitterness 
 With sweetness ; in hot fires with psalm-sing- 
 ing 
 Accept divine refining of their gold ; 
 Through lifting others' loads make themselves 
 
 strong 
 Their own to carry ; fill and trim their lamps 
 For them that walk in darkness, and more clear 
 Their own way make to Paradise ; ay, find 
 With sweet surprise their Paradise below. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 203 
 
 They find their rest the best, who rest 
 Kot day nor night, but ceaselessly 
 Cry : ' Holy, holy, holy. Lord, the God 
 Almighty I Which was, and is, and is to 
 come ! ' 
 
 " Such on My great Creation's Sabbath is 
 My rest. Nor cease I from My work ; nor yet 
 Changeth My nature so more godlike I ; 
 Nor moveth in Me love more infinite ; 
 But larger vessel larger inflow holds ; 
 Ever to him that hath shall more be given ! 
 O, it did seem to Me in those far years, albeit 
 The various life had such felicity, 
 As though My heart would break with pent 
 
 up grace 
 Till Man should come with rank and quality 
 Keceptive and responsive to My thought. 
 Here, here, is room for love ! — And when he 
 
 failed 
 Me, and shut hard his soul thereto, then said ' 
 I : Here is room, here all the roomier room ; 
 His need for Me I need ! Ah, may I but 
 Break open that shut heart. My aching heart 
 Shall ache no more with painful strain and 
 
 vain! 
 
 " And thereto did I set Me. I was done 
 "With making aught from naught, and naught 
 from aught 
 
204 "THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Again ; was done with fixing up the world 
 
 A wide Jardin des Plantes, and stocking it 
 
 With ever new perfumed bloom ; was done 
 
 With new inventions of terrestrial life 
 
 That well-nigh vexed the waters and the main 
 
 With their superlative multiplicities ; 
 
 Was done with carving beasts in th' image of 
 
 man, 
 As they should after carve Mine after them ; 
 Was done with making make-believes of 
 
 men 1 
 
 " Then he of whom all else before was type, 
 Himself poor type of Him who after came, 
 He at My word appeared for whom were 
 
 made 
 In humbler sense all things, and by whom all 
 In humble sense were to be made anew. 
 And when he failed Me, through his yielding 
 
 weak 
 To sensuous tastes, then said I, In the Christ 
 I make anew this poor man ; and all else ! 
 And Eden's fences tore I down ; and man 
 Into the forest passed ; and Eden's fruits 
 I bade him plant and grow ; and the world's 
 
 weeds 
 He must uproot — better — make new, convert 
 By gentle culture to what would redeem ; 
 Symbol of that sweet artifice of grace 
 That 'mong the thorns finds finest fragrances, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 205 
 
 In tear-wines a divine catholicon. 
 
 Thus Paradise beyond her fences grows 
 
 To earth-wide breadths of holy, fruit-f ul peace ! 
 
 " So, all done making aught from naught, for 
 
 naught 
 Th' immortal ; very death I vivified. 
 Anew, anew, My godlike breath I breathed 
 Into man's soul, not nostrils only ; like 
 A. drowning wretch, with a rough tenderness 
 I handled him ; did beat him, lift him high. 
 Did cast him low, did turn him o'er and o'er, 
 Used e'en th' attractions of the earth to draw 
 The strangling waters off; meanwhile My 
 
 blows 
 Amidst, the breath of life I breathed afresh 
 Into his waking breath ; whilst fervent speech 
 And reassuring smile inspired with hope 
 Of life ! With such most precious resurrec- 
 tion. 
 My Son and His dear w^ork and end forecast- 
 ing, 
 My day of rest I hallowed and I blessed ! 
 My work My worship, and My worship love ! 
 
 " What now though pain be here, if I but may 
 With thrills of joy disperse it ? What if now 
 My wit should sublimate man's nature, so 
 Reconstitute his moral nerves, that pain 
 Have ravishment, as martyrs. anciently 
 
2o6 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 In brave-borne flames their euthanasia found ? 
 What now of sin, if I may love it down, 
 If I may speak its pardon, heal the sore. 
 Make failures give impulse to betterness. 
 Let storms compel deeper root-hold in grace ; 
 Persuade My patient to more vigilant care, 
 His sorrows soothe with soft, sweet sym- 
 pathies. 
 Close to My bosom fold him, make him know 
 He is My child however hard offending ; 
 My sinful child for whom My sinless Son 
 Shall with My full consent a sinner seem, 
 And to th' extent of dreadful dying go, so 
 
 each 
 With other may the wealth of heaven share ! " 
 
 XXI 
 
 " Now He who with Me builded heaven and 
 
 earth 
 Buildeth with Me on earth a heaven in truth, 
 A reverend temple, past the secular fanes. 
 At th' end of the long avenue of years ; 
 A temple founded deep in clay, with rock 
 Of Mine eternal purpose under ; all 
 O'er-arched with dome of golden day ; whence 
 
 spring 
 Aloft the cross-crowned spires wherefrom 
 
 sounds out 
 To wide-spread peoples call to praise and 
 
 prayer ; i 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 207 
 
 Its stones from rock-heart quarries, by hard 
 
 tool 
 And toil of Providence to fitness shaped ; 
 In her foundations sapphires and all stones 
 Of preciousness ; her windows agates ; gates 
 Of rubies, endless gems embordering round. 
 Not yet all builded ; though the worshippers 
 From near and far assemble reverently ; 
 Not builded all, but year by year it lifts 
 To greaterness and broadens o'er the earth. 
 And in the last days shall it come to pass — 
 Above the hills and mountain-tops shall stand 
 My House, and to it all the nations flow ! 
 Their lowly worship cheers My work of love, 
 Nor train in vain Mine own for realms above ! 
 
 " At times I catch the snatches of a hymn 
 That through these echoing arches quivering 
 
 thrills 
 Of some choice cloister to Me consecrate. 
 Ennobled by its fresh and generous joy. 
 Nor mindless I of fine consummate art. 
 Nor of poor art if heart be only rich ; 
 Nay, art is not, where heart hath not her part ! 
 And such hymn hearing, I do somehow deem 
 It amplifies and glorifies itself 
 To foresight and to fore-song of that time 
 When, like a soul of peerless consecration. 
 The august world and all that is therein 
 Shall prove My House of Dedications ; where 
 
2o8 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 The upward steps and open door invite, 
 Where opaline lights, the sacramental feast, 
 The organ leaping to exultant praise, 
 The cleansing font, the Word transcending all 
 Earth's lower learnings, the upspringing spire, 
 The bells that whelm the over-realm with song 
 And set the hills a-ringing all around, — 
 These signify the consecrations holy 
 Of souls and solemn centuries to come ! 
 
 " Have ye a song a-trembling on your tongues, 
 
 Panting to sing, but at My presence awed ? 
 
 Though praise may stumble, it shall bring Me 
 cheer. 
 
 If raised from humble hearts that sing sin- 
 cere ! " 
 
 O Mighty Father, Spirit, Son! ('S) 
 Thou wondrous Three in wondrous One; 
 In whom the worlds of worlds all live! 
 To us, Thy poor blind children, give 
 Some vision of Thy favoring face, 
 Some tender token of Thy grace! 
 
 We bring Thee, Lord, what is Thine own, 
 
 Thy thought and skill, Thy wood and stone; 
 
 We pray, this Temple fair and strong, 
 
 For peoples, many ages long. 
 
 Accept, so it may ever prove 
 
 Thy House of prayer and praise and love! 
 
 Type may it be in all its parts 
 Of loving lives and holy hearts; 
 Its beauty, symbol of Thy peace, 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 209 
 
 Its massive strength, of Godlike grace, 
 Its blending lights, of virtues fair, 
 Its music, of praise-mingling prayer! 
 
 Lord God of Hosts, as we ascend 
 These stately Courts, vrilt Thou descend 
 To meet and greet our worship! Bless 
 Us with Thy presence in the stress 
 Of life; teai-s, faith, work, patience, love, 
 Steps, all, to lead above, above! 
 
 As through these Windows common light 
 Is to our wondering, raptured sight, 
 Transformed to inspired evangelists, 
 Angelic choirs, death-conquering Christs; 
 So through our human lives may shine 
 Transfiguring light and love divine! 
 
 As on the Desk from all sides round 
 Fire-jewelled light, like lucent sound, 
 Illumes the "Word ; so from all lore 
 Of earth, on speech divine outpour 
 New soul; Truth's vesture richer made, 
 Woven of sunshine and of shade! 
 
 As round the Consecrated Board 
 In memory of our absent Lord, 
 We eat the bread and drink the wine. 
 Not absent be, but near! We pine 
 For Thy Real Presence day by day, 
 So we may dine with Thee alway! 
 
 As through the throbbing Organ reeds 
 The bounding air to music speeds. 
 Thy Temple quivering with the strain; 
 So, Breath of God, in mercy deign 
 In us to throb and thrill, so we 
 Be organs of rich praise to Thee! 
 
210 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 As from the strong Tower, far adown 
 Loud sound o'er the surrounding town, 
 The swinging, swelling songs of bells; 
 So o'er earth's plains and heights and dells 
 May we, from lofty life and song, 
 The call to worship God prolong! 
 
 O Mighty Father, Spirit, Son! 
 
 Thou wondrous Three in wondrous One! 
 
 This House from base to eminent spire. 
 
 Nave, pulpit, altar, font and choir. 
 
 Ourselves, our all, Blest Trinity, 
 
 We reverent dedicate to Thee! 
 
 " With cheerful grace bless I each house ye 
 
 rear — 
 Or massive minster, or an holy soul, 
 Or conclave of adoring worshippers ! 
 This is My Eest forever ; here I dwell ; 
 I have desired it and abundantly 
 Will bless ; her poor will satisfy with bread ; 
 With My salvation will I clothe her priests ; 
 And all her saints shall shout aloud for joy ! 
 
 " And therein type and prophecy of that 
 Imperial Cathedral of All Saints, 
 That, not as on four corners of the earth 
 Shall stand, but on the whole round globe, and 
 
 lift 
 From North and South, and from the East 
 
 and West, 
 Far heavenward her wide expectant gaze ! 
 No land nor sea whereon it resteth not ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 211 
 
 No healing breath from height or mighty 
 
 breadth 
 That bloweth not its open windows through ; 
 No new nor antique learnings that help not 
 Expound the blessed gospel-law ; no star 
 Burning amongst the radiant host that points 
 Not some wise Magi to the cradled Christ 
 To see in Him the sovereign Prince of Peace ! 
 No bitterness without its healing myrrh ; 
 No honest homage without frankincense 
 Of fragrant praise ; no gold, but, had it choice, 
 Would displeased rust in hands profane, but 
 
 gleam 
 With light in vessels for the Master's use ! 
 No lowly life that lifteth not therein 
 Some ladder of ascent, or timber frame, 
 Or lay precious though rudely carven stone 
 Perchance in worthier inconspicuous place ; 
 No quarrymen, but from far quarries help 
 To build and gem and glorify the House 
 Of My Great Glory I eternal raise ; 
 All on the Prophets and Apostles founded. 
 My Christ the elect and precious Corner- 
 stone ! 
 
 Almighty God, whose power and grace 
 Encompass our wide human race, 
 In heaven glows Thy Temple grand 
 Whose pillars on the low earth stand; 
 Through storied height, to utmost zone, 
 It rests on Christ the Corner-Stone. 
 
212 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 No kindling sun hath such fair light, 
 No daring star such stately height, 
 No court resoundeth with such song 
 As pours its hallowed aisles along, 
 Nor e'er was builded fane or throne 
 On such illustrious Corner-Stone. 
 
 Yet usest Thou our faulty toil, 
 Findest far down in earthly soil 
 Some quarry, whence with art all Thine, 
 Thou workest forms almost divine ; 
 Earth is unto God's Temple grown, 
 Harmonious with its Corner-Stone. 
 
 O Lord, beneath benignant skies, 
 'Midst scenes Thy favor beautifies. 
 Our hopes, our prayers to Thee we raise 
 And found a Temple to Thy praise; 
 Our humble work propitious own 
 As now we lay the Corner-Stone. 
 
 Except the Lord the house do build. 
 Except with grace the house be filled, 
 All labor vain. O Christ, impart 
 Thy saving spirit to each heart; 
 By Thee, to Thee, on Thee alone, 
 We build. Thou fairest Corner-Stone! 
 
 Here may the truth and right grow strong, 
 Here love prevail Thy saints among, 
 Here sinners feel Thy quickening grace, 
 And seek with hasting joy Thy face; 
 Here thousands gladly make Thee known 
 As their eternal Corner-Stone. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 213 
 
 Build Thou the walls! Make them so glow 
 With glory, we on earth below 
 The eternal splendors shall foresee ! 
 Grander than Salem's may they be, 
 All luminous with grace Thine own, 
 From topmost peak to Corner-Stone! 
 
 "How may I otherwise than bless? From 
 
 base 
 Obscurest to exultant eminence 
 I bless, e'en the rough rubble binding firm 
 Th' magnific marbles ; fails My smile no tool, 
 Nor toiler; but beyond all measure blessed 
 Is he who, whatsoe'er his task, straightway 
 Performs it with a grateful reverence. 
 
 " Like some who in the Middle Ages wrought ; 
 
 When rank and power and wealth and poverty 
 
 In piety joined hands, rearing a church (^^) 
 
 I hold so choice, since 'twas so choicely 
 builded. 
 
 Few hired laborers there ; they wrought for 
 Me! 
 
 Their grace the great cathedral's grace out- 
 shone ! 
 
 Day gave not time enough, night lent them 
 hers. 
 
 As quaint annals of th' ancient times relate — 
 
 Together, side by side, and heart by heart ; 
 
 The men, the maids, the youth, wrought; 
 none too old 
 
ii4 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 And none too young ; save sweet babes that 
 
 cried not 
 But smiled at the dear kiss their mothers 
 
 kissed 
 On parting, for a task so holy. Some 
 Helped venerable trees to kneel, and some 
 The lowly quarries lifted heavenward — 
 Their rocky faces wrought to angel likeness ; 
 Some in the traces gat to draw the carts. 
 Whilst others pulled at ropes ; and some 
 
 pushed hard 
 The creaking loads of lumber, lime and stone, 
 An hundred to a wagon, shouting psalms ; 
 Anon in silence, in the middle night. 
 As though too sacred for a spoken joy, 
 Till broken this by sobs and sad confessions ; 
 Which, waxen tapers on the wagons hear- 
 ing, 
 Would flash fresh light upon the weeping 
 
 way ! 
 Meanwhile one might nor high nor humble 
 
 work 
 Essay, who had not every wrath laid by — 
 Which were distempered mortar, periling all. 
 For neither then nor now was ever builded 
 True man, or church, or empire, without love! 
 Then round the rising walls of the great 
 
 church 
 Momently mounted night-dispersing praise 
 That set the stars a-quivering with delight. 
 
THE DIP IN E PROCESSIOMJL 215 
 
 O, had those childlike children held their 
 
 peace, 
 The very stones had cried in pained joy I 
 
 " Almost I envy their sweet childhood glee, 
 Their world's newness, their awed expectancy ! 
 What if, some day, I might surprised be ? " 
 
 O Worldly World ! Wilt have quaint task ? 
 Suppose this boon of God thou ask! 
 Forgive, Lord, this irreverence, — 
 But close, Just close, those constant eyes! 
 
 Quick ! now, O World, from each ofEense! 
 Quick — with thy heartiest penitence ! 
 Quick — with thy tearful love intense! 
 Quick — at thy sincere sacraments! 
 Quick — in thy heavenward ascents! 
 — Now, watch as He thy mending spies! 
 
 Father! Open those closed eyes! 
 Dost wonder at this different guise ? 
 Now, hast Thou not Thy pleased surprise ? 
 Ah, World! Thou too surprised hast come 
 To thy new-quickening Christendom! 
 
 "Fair World, arise 1 Fair Church of God 
 awake 
 
 To thy new splendors ! Lift thy vaulting 
 spire. 
 
 Bid the ambitious bells fling wide their glad- 
 ness. 
 
 Let peoples all hear call to worship ; hills 
 
2i6 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 And mountains be o'errun with paeans speed- 
 ing. 
 
 Let Charity's choice choristers, white robed, 
 
 Angelical evangels chant adown 
 
 The aisles of time ; and through compulsions 
 tender 
 
 The woes of life be wooed and won to glad- 
 ness; 
 
 Her angered heart become an angel-home ; 
 
 All Time an holy Pentecost wherein 
 
 The pagan peoples of the earth shall hear, 
 
 And the poor pagan peoples of the soul. 
 
 In their own tongues the wonderful works of 
 God ! " 
 
 Now to thy blest baptismal waters haste, 
 
 O Love, thy converts from the worldly waste ; 
 
 Forth, and baptize thy healed heathen host, 
 
 In Name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! 
 
 — Now, open wide, O World, thy wondering eyes ; 
 
 And let the Master's meet thy glad sui'prise ! 
 
 XXII 
 
 " O World, transfigured thy fair face to-day ! 
 With the warm radiance of a happy conscience 
 The skies of thy soul be bright ! They match 
 
 right well, 
 In nature, and evolving from the dusk 
 To brightness, thy celestial spaces that 
 Impress the physical eye. An hundred leagues 
 Up through the azure atoms one may view 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 217 
 
 The Moon ! The tiny children of the Night, 
 Untired by travel, unfrighted by the dark, 
 Dayshine all gone, find easy way therethrough, 
 And bid thee merry be. Thy firmament 
 So crystalline, one at the top might catch 
 The fragrant crimson of a rose afire ! 
 
 " Not always thus. Content the infant flowers 
 
 Lived midst the shadows of the elder world 
 
 With simple verdancy, russet, or sable ; 
 
 A myriad form of beauty in eclipse. 
 
 No knots of rubies on the rounding knolls. 
 
 No fragmentary rainbows on the plains. 
 
 No mountains built up of massed goldenness ! 
 
 " As the industrious ants, when some intruder 
 Invades their home and breaks the arches 
 
 down. 
 Hither and thither haste the sad debris 
 To put away, and build anew, not one 
 An idler ; so, scarce one inhabitant 
 Of those old fields and forests but did work 
 To take the mists away and make bright day. 
 And all the winds wide wandering o'er the 
 
 world 
 Did learn of it, and bring from loftiest heaven, 
 And from the roaring main, to every plant 
 Its measure of ethereal substance ; so 
 A friendly commerce formed, this giving that 
 The fibrous food, that giving this in turn 
 
2i8 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 The vital air, like a real breath of God 
 That giveth life to all ! The mutual grace 
 Helped each, and through the pleased skies 
 
 the sun 
 Flushed the new blushing flowers with bloom ; 
 
 such gems 
 As coming crowns might envy as their peers ! 
 
 " E'en then to that which gave, was given ! 
 As once 
 
 Through rapt Hosea I did prophesy : 
 
 * In that day it shall come to pass that I 
 
 Will hear the heavens, and they shall hear the 
 earth. 
 
 The earth shall hear the corn and wine and 
 oil. 
 
 And they shall hear Jezreel ! ' — Shall Jezreel 
 not 
 
 Hear Me ? — Meekly My flowers breathed fra- 
 grances 
 
 Upon the air ; this returned light ; which both, 
 
 In happy turn, this priceless substance wrought 
 
 Into a trillion iridescences ! 
 
 On larger scale My clouds unenvious 
 
 And grateful sought to copy them ! Then 
 scarce 
 
 A leaf that fluttered not with panting joy. 
 
 The foliaged fields cleansed lurid skies of 
 gloom. 
 
 O, not one forest giant but foresaw 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 219 
 
 The glowing days apace, and far aloft 
 Outstretched long limbs to draw the darkness 
 
 down 
 From cumbrous skies ; not one soft mossbank 
 
 hid 
 In mountain clove, or multitudinous jungle ; 
 Nor one rash grass that on the sandy dunes 
 Dared the wild dangers of th' devouring waves 
 To help build up a bulwark 'gainst the tide 
 And make safe harbor for the ships of men ; 
 Not one, but prayed that hastening 4ays 
 
 might less 
 Tenebrious prove ; whilst with them populous 
 
 fields 
 And wilds wrought at their marvellous chemis- 
 tries, 
 Through multi-vein'd leaf-lungs absorbing 
 
 dark, 
 Exhaling pure promethean oxide, live 
 "With life, and light with fire ; their every 
 
 breath 
 A benediction that did bless the dull, 
 Deep ether with a warm transparentness I 
 A sea of glass like unto crystal ; nay. 
 But as of Wisdom spake My sage of Uz ; 
 The gold and crystal cannot equal it ! 
 
 " In such wise through the reverend years 
 
 hath wrought 
 My Spirit in the life of Souls. My Son — 
 
220 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 In Him was Life, and the Life was the Light 
 
 of men ; 
 And though the Light shone in the darkness, it 
 Did comprehend Him not ; did not perceive. 
 Possess, use, understand Him. But 'twas His 
 By fervent light to wake to consciousness. 
 To stir desire, to set life hungering 
 For life, to whet the quickening appetite. 
 To start the man t' acquiring manf ulness, — 
 Making more room for deep in working God ! 
 
 " Let him that heareth hear ! Hearing makes 
 
 ears! 
 Looking makes eyes ; loving makes love ; doing 
 Makes larger being ! Unto him that hath — 
 In very soul, where having only is — 
 Is given. Who hath not thus inmostly 
 Loseth his all, since he hath lost himself ! 
 
 " Therefore, as when My pristine creatures 
 
 longed 
 For vision. My life within them taught their 
 
 nerves 
 To feel the soft pulsations of the light 
 And shape themselves to catch them ; and as 
 
 then 
 Beholding objects far, they feign would touch 
 And taste them, ardent arms went out to reach 
 Them, fingers to fast hold them ; and desire 
 Did teach them how to daintily feed ; all which 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 221 
 
 Processes made them slowly, surely grow 
 To an infinitude of joyful life. 
 And as My pristine plants smelling the sun, 
 Forth gave their distilled perfumes and ar- 
 rayed 
 Themselves in beauty yet more beautiful. 
 And sucked darkness out from the sluggish 
 
 air 
 And fed it with sweet extracts of the skies ; 
 So Man, half-conscious of immortalness, 
 Hath blindly felt about him for — himself ! 
 And to him hands have grown, and ear and 
 
 eye; 
 And out into the atmosphere so dense 
 With spirit-darkness he hath prayed for life ; 
 Then giving, hath in triple measure got 
 More back. Earth, breathing black, exhaling 
 
 white, 
 Finds stars — and God ! Nature first taught 
 
 what He 
 Of Nazareth commended, saying : Love 
 Your enemies, give and it shall be given 
 To you ; into your bosoms shall men pour 
 Good measure, running over all desire ! 
 
 "Thus 'twas through Love the earth grew 
 
 bright and saw 
 The sun, and his clear eye did clearer see 
 The earth and find out how to bless it. Then 
 Also men saw the greater and lesser lights ; 
 And when sometime in bright day silently 
 
222 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 The moon would move to the meridian, 
 
 And pUxnt herself right straight before his 
 
 face — 
 And sun to darkness turn, and moon to blood ■, 
 To faith, moons might not blot out suns ; to 
 
 her 
 Fine pinhole sight, round moon-eclipsed sun 
 Would gleam the mystical Corona ; crown 
 She ne'er had known, save for the passing 
 
 darkness ! 
 Lo, on the head of The Invisible 
 There glows a nobler than imperial Crown 1 
 
 " Thus through the sunshine and the shadow 
 
 grew 
 Clearer the light. My Heaven drew closelier 
 
 down 
 To Earth ; they looked into each other's eyes ; 
 They understood ; they laughed ; they loved ; 
 
 to each 
 The other gave ; this, angels ; that one, saints ; 
 Since which sweet time earth heavenlier hath 
 
 grown. 
 While in what high and mighty sense hath 
 
 heaven 
 Been taken up with wider-worldliness ! 
 O World ! Fair World ! So crystalline thy 
 
 skies, 
 The empyrean spheres surprised catch 
 That fragrant crimson of thy love afire ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 223 
 
 Now, open wide, O "World, thy wondering 
 
 eyes, 
 And let thy Master's meet thy glad surprise ! 
 
 " At last, at last, hath come the Day, when eye 
 To eye My Worlds each other see and know ; 
 When end these misconceptions ; each in all, 
 And all in each, find correspondence ; when 
 My watchmen shall lift up the voice, with th' 
 
 voice 
 Together shall they sing ; for they shall see. 
 And eye to eye, when th' Lord shall bring in 
 
 Zion ! 
 The Lord makes bare His holy arm in th' 
 
 eyes 
 Of all the nations ; all the ends of the earth 
 Shall see the wide salvation of their God ! 
 
 " Thus spake My Prophets of the elder days, 
 And foregleams of Messiah lighted up 
 The Babylonian night, and cheering psalmodies 
 Awoke the sleeping faith of Israel, 
 Over whose self-same knolls should after roll 
 Reverberant echoes of the Angel-Song ; 
 And thus My Prophet in the wilderness — 
 Of barren life, parched hope, and this tied rest. 
 Lifted his urgent Voice. ' Repent ! The king- 
 dom 
 Of Heaven is at hand ! Behold the Lamb, 
 The Lamb of God, that taketh away, away, 
 
224 "THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Away, the sins of the world ! ' On His great 
 
 heart 
 He bare them, to His Cross He bare them, 
 
 through 
 The ages hath He borne with them, and borne 
 Them ; and away, away, He carries them. 
 And more and more shall — till the world He 
 
 won 
 Shall with the glory of the Lord be filled ! " 
 
 All Thy works do praise Thee, Lord ! The world Thee 
 boasts : 
 
 Of Thy kingdom ages tell the story ! 
 Holy, holy, holy, art Thou, Lord of Hosts ! 
 
 All the earth is full of Thy great glory ! 
 
 XXIII 
 
 " O, freelier now to their intended ends 
 Pass on the so long palsied powers of good. 
 It may not be, that homely soil and sky 
 Shall jointly such bright world evolve, but 
 
 earth 
 And heaven fail in joint attempt. It may 
 Not be, that ignorant little atoms all 
 Find noble place, but little deeds or great 
 Of Man or God never meet use divine ! 
 
 " Niagara's glorious beauty shall be tapped ; 
 But, having yet enough, with loud delight 
 She gives away a thousand rainbows which 
 Tumultuously do grind themselves to might 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 225 
 
 And light, to meet a spindled empire's need ! 
 It may not, shall not be, that down the years 
 Shall flow the grand and solemn cataract 
 Of pains and toils and brave humanities ; 
 But span the chasms with no fair rainbow 
 
 sign 
 Of sacred covenant, and no momentum 
 For use of a divine machinery spare, 
 Nor force to drive the enginery of grace, 
 To trumpet through her loud electrophones 
 The triumphs most magnifical of love. 
 And with day shine flush midnight of the 
 
 world ! 
 
 " It may not be, the spirit of the air 
 
 Her slumbering lightnings wakes to winged 
 
 speeds 
 O'er threatening crags, through sullen silences 
 Of hungry deserts, under curdling seas. 
 With news for nations or for humble homes; 
 Or spurs them on to mad, terrific leap 
 A thousand leagues through the astonished 
 
 ether. 
 Heralding hostile fleets, or signalling how 
 For some just cause sweet victory was won ; — 
 This may not, shall not be, except also 
 The Spirit of God, intense in man and all 
 Far more than electricities that be 
 But playthings in compare, the sovereign 
 
 Source 
 
226 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Of the great energies that drive wide worlds 
 Of worlds OE noiseless wheels awhirl among 
 Or space or time's awful infinitudes, 
 Shall, in the wise omnisciences of love. 
 Thrill with the mj^stic pangs of universes 
 Haste to their healing e'en on fleeter feet 
 Than speed the flight of stellar gravities ; 
 Carry to heaven prayers, and back to earth 
 Bring threefold answerings ; fresh impulse 
 
 give 
 To each new right or ancient ; harness fast 
 The coarser forces of the earth to draw 
 My chariots ; work to spiritual forms 
 The common clay, and thereinto, as first 
 In man, breathe life; flash gospels and re- 
 demptions 
 O'er gulfs and jungles, and set thunderous 
 
 mountains 
 A-ringing with the jubilees of Peace 1 
 
 " I correlate the energies that make 
 
 And mark My world, and work its diverse 
 
 stuffs 
 To spiritual goods. Nor let there be 
 Too pained disappointment if not quite 
 At once My purpose be found out. Recall 
 The Beautiful White City by the Sea ! 
 
 "Upon a stretch of land where two seas 
 meet, ^^'^ 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 227 
 
 Each rich in commerces and stocked with 
 
 storms, 
 On whose gale-tumbled waves strong restless 
 
 souls 
 Adventure dangers, wrenching from their 
 
 grasp 
 Despite their wounds a million-folded wealth ; 
 Fishes and ships and lumbers on the one ; 
 The other a huge, heaving human sea 
 Into whose depths flow waters from all lands, 
 Or sweet or foul, to be churned clean by 
 
 years ; — 
 And mighty captains man the mighty ships ; — 
 Upon this stretch of land, two seas between, 
 Arose a City such as ne'er before 
 Had builded been. The science and the art, 
 The soul and genius of ancient years 
 And modern, all were there. Eight side by 
 
 side, 
 Egyptian and Assyrian, Eoman, Greek, 
 Stand fraternizing, and each other warm 
 Admiring, as though ne'er the Nile, nor Tiber, 
 Nor Jordan, nor Euphrates, nor the plains, 
 Nor seas, nor yet the great historic Stream 
 Of Years, had to the brim been blood-swol- 
 len, — 
 Fertile their shores with rue and ruin wide ! 
 — They kiss each other in thy courteous 
 
 courts, 
 O beautiful White City by the Sea ! 
 
228 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " Here too the Moderns meet, and pleasedly 
 Salute the arts and learnings of past years ; 
 Sharpen their wits by theirs ; and praise them- 
 selves 
 They comprehend them. Art to-day is true 
 That wisely copies not their form but soul. 
 Here Moderns meet, and with sweet gracious- 
 
 ness 
 Their rivals greet ; whether in home-spun 
 
 wares, 
 Or gems and jewelries, crops, forestries, 
 Paintings and statuaries, morals, laws, 
 The latest lores and broadest pansophies. 
 The Caravels of Spain that long agone 
 Against the protests of Atlantic storms 
 Pressed hard their way Columbia to find, 
 Salute with fine Castilian courtesy 
 The Age that, over many an unknown waste 
 Adventuring, finds a continental wealth. 
 
 " My Children born in various zones of faith 
 Their brotherhood discover, aptly then 
 They give each other hints at study, like 
 The merchants in the marts of trade their wares 
 Exchanging, and thereby enriching all. 
 O, happy they, who on a Pagan breast 
 Hang lovingly the peerless Pearl of Price ; 
 And happy they who give, and they who take 
 Such fragmentary crystals as from years 
 Far off have tenderly been cherished ; such 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 229 
 
 A jet's fine setting for this Diamond ! 
 
 O, beautiful, this City by the Sea ! 
 
 Its whiteness like My purity, its breadth 
 
 My charity, its industries be like 
 
 Mine own infinitude of deed. I hail 
 
 Thee ! Beautiful White City by the Sea ! " 
 
 O Beautiful, O Beautiful, White City by the Sea; 
 "Where holdeth Art her carnival, and Peace her jubilee ! 
 O, beautiful our thought of thee, and beautiful thy thought, 
 And beautiful thy purpose all so excellently wrought! 
 
 The Orient and the Occident, the Ancient and the New, 
 Bewildered in their gladsomeness, each other's virtues view; 
 And Peoples all equipped for war, for long-lived love pre- 
 pare, — 
 Finding how Right's omnipotent and Goodness debonair! 
 
 Here in a high knight-errantry these friendly foes contest 
 For generous Right, and for the one True Cross of Love 
 
 make quest ; 
 And all the earth is gathered here the tourney for to see. 
 And hail the heroes of the truth, the Truth that makes men 
 free. 
 
 That golden-arched Golden Door the chariots must J)ass 
 
 through, 
 And all the wondrous wagonries that nations ever knew! 
 Wherefore? Through Gate of Golden Goodness must the 
 
 Peoples move 
 To see Jehovah's banner over all the world is Love! 
 
 Ah, where your poor knight-errantry, ye envying Wind and 
 
 Fire, 
 To make of this rich pageantry of Peace a funeral pyre ? 
 Alas, must such the end of thee and of thy triumphs be, 
 O beautiful, O beautiful White City by the Sea ? 
 
230 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Nay, merciful art thou, O Fire ; and kind, unkindly Wind! 
 It were not meet to rust and dust such beauty be consigned ; 
 Let outward form all perish if the inward life but be 
 Eternalized in poetry, and grace and melody ! 
 
 Through all the Peoples, O fair City, runs thy new renown. 
 Thy beauty beautifies the province and the stately town ; 
 Thy broadness broadens aim and fame of women and men 
 
 who plod, 
 And hint the human brotherhood of all the sons of God! 
 
 Ah, many is Thy fair city. Lord, by time's tempestuous sea. 
 Each choicely builded age goes down so choicelier builded be; 
 O, dear the thought, naught comes to naught, but all so dear 
 
 to Thee 
 Worketh for yonder City of God — where there is no more 
 
 sea! 
 
 "If but the world would catch thy sacred 
 
 thought, 
 Thou beautiful White City by the Sea, 
 That naught of beauty dies, nor worth, nor 
 
 grace ; 
 That ever I make all things new ! For this 
 Each Old was. N'ow is condensed everness. 
 In a child's cup-and-saucer acorns, sweat 
 Impatient oaks whose outstretched arms shall 
 
 dare 
 The tempest's cannonade. In what here is 
 Lie mighty ages — to be born again 
 In th' Spirit ! Now, e'en now, what glorious 
 New-births of freedom and of faith, of love 
 And duty, rights and righteousness, peoples 
 And sovereignties, that hint the hasting Dawn ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 231 
 
 Look round ! What immortalities sprang up 
 From yonder sepulchre ! And evermore 
 Shall ! Godhead gained there, and th' Eter- 
 nities ; 
 And time and men and things immortalized ! 
 
 " Those giant peaks around whose careless feet 
 My darling Javan children timid play, 
 Those fuming, darkling, bellowing lava-pots, 
 (What aromatic nosegays, abuzz with wasps,) 
 Who'd dream of spicing breakfasts with their 
 
 sweets ? 
 Those mighty, fire-rock-hurling catapults, 
 Who'd dream they'd hurl round to th' antip- 
 odes 
 Dust-darkness soft dissolving on its way (^^) 
 To such vermilioned iridescences 
 As make sunsets blush in new ecstasy ? 
 Ay, if colossal mountains of great wrongs 
 May have their steaming fury, cinder-black. 
 Transformed to splendors round the setting 
 
 sun 
 'Way cross wide seas ; sure from the fragrant 
 
 hills 
 And fruitful mountains of St. Charity — 
 The loveliest isle in all the brine of time — 
 Shall float, not once an age to suit a spasm. 
 But all perennially (just as the Spring 
 Can't help it, but must bloom,) shall float, I 
 say, 
 
232 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 With th' wind, or straight against, o'er every 
 
 zone. 
 Winged beatitudes, with holy pomp, 
 Angelic and seraphic circumstance, 
 To glorify the rising and the setting sun 
 With glory, and hail the timid trembling 
 
 stars — 
 That fear lest they fall down into this dark — 
 With greetings sweet as were those angel- 
 smiles 
 When first they sang their way down hither- 
 ward ! " 
 
 The earth ferments to bursting with new mountains ; 
 
 The past is packed with mercies for new years ; 
 Our Sinais sound with chime of singing fountains ; 
 
 Glory to God, His peace on earth now nears ! 
 
 Behold, Our Jesu's Kingdom near appears ! 
 
 " ' Our Jesu ! ' Thanks ! My Jesu, too. My 
 
 Children ! 
 Forget not ye, nor I, our holy gain 
 At His sweet Cross. He conquers by that Sign. 
 Your safety and the world's great glory there ; 
 For Me what crown, for ye what vesture ! 
 
 See, 
 What fine, what dear-bought garmenture of 
 
 love ! " 
 
 The Cross ! Those transverse beams be the first warp 
 And w^oof of that dear Garment wherewith Christ 
 Would hide man's sin and sorry nakedness ; 
 Wherethrough He weaveth all the threads of life 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 233 
 
 And tangled fibres of His history, 
 
 With many a purple, many a scarlet dyed, 
 
 Into a beautiful broad mantle warm, 
 
 The shivering earth to cover with His grace ! 
 
 XXIV 
 
 " ' Our Jesu ! ' Thanks, My Children ; yours, 
 
 and Mine ! 
 First though, ere we these final conquests 
 
 view 
 Whence glory to God and peace to good-willed 
 
 men; 
 First, in this mystic presence lowly kneel, 
 Though ye no more the mystic forms see clear 
 Of Christ and Cross and Nature in her tears. 
 Fast fade they from your vision ! These, in 
 
 pain 
 Through angered ages, now with transport 
 
 learn 
 The night is over and the day at hand ! 
 The spell is past ; the strain and tension 
 
 cease ; 
 The darkness lights ; the frigid atoms warm ; 
 The icy figures melt away. Lo, Life ! 
 For death is swallowed up in victory ! 
 
 " She knows, sweet Nature, how reward is His 
 Who on the Tree gave life to death for life. 
 Already learning how her Son — and Mine — 
 Authority is taking to Himself, 
 With Love, fair Empress, seated by His side ; 
 
234 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Whilst Pride and Self and Sin, like well- 
 tamed beasts 
 Not cowed but gentled into courtesy, 
 Be proud to mind His each benign behest. 
 Therefore no more doth Nature bend in woe 
 Disconsolate and weep loud tears that He, 
 Her noblest born, hath bitterness ; but, glad 
 Her whole soul through, and body, bravely 
 
 works 
 In her innumerous spheres, complete in Him, 
 The head of principalities and powers ; 
 All joining in the Paradisal hymn : 
 ' Worthy the Lamb ! for He was slain for 
 us!' 
 
 " Again, behold, My Children, ye of earth. 
 And ye from heaven's uplands near the throne; 
 Lo, fades, slow fades, the vision of the Cross 
 And Crucified ! Death loses grasp on life. 
 Paralysis of the horror-stricken air 
 Feels new quick pulse and thrill ; and as in 
 
 spring 
 The ice-chains melt and let the streams 
 
 a-merry 
 Dance down the glens, and through the mead- 
 ows sing. 
 Nor bird, nor bough, nor nook that gladdens 
 
 not, 
 And casts not sunshine back into the sun ; 
 So yield these frigid, rigid, spectral forms 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 235 
 
 To hope's soft witcheries, and smile themselves 
 Away ! Therefore, if while it lingers, ye 
 For whom the strenuous Cross was borne. 
 Would, filled with woe for His so deeper woe, 
 Ere ye depart, pour forth your tearful thanks ; 
 I give ye leave in this impressive scene 
 To bow the knee and heart in adoration. 
 Think o'er the sins that laid Him low, the 
 
 grace 
 That raised ye high, and whisper soft the love 
 That stirs to holy supplicating praise. 
 Ay, how ye burn with pain your sins should be 
 The nails that pinned Him to the cruel Tree ; 
 Alas, the thorns, the spear, the mocking jeer, 
 May well provoke the penitential tear ! " 
 
 O Poor, tired, wounded Feet, 
 Come lame and limping down our street, 
 And bring sweet Christ to be our Guest; 
 This time we'll give Him rest! 
 
 Ye toil-worn, nail-torn Palms, 
 Will ye feel hurt by our scant alms? 
 If but our hands that did distress Him 
 Might now caress and bless Him! 
 
 O weary vShoulders, say 
 How we may lift and help convey 
 Some of your loads of care and sin. 
 Though we so late begin ! 
 
 O tender, sacred Eyes, 
 
 Shall ye not glow with glad surprise, 
 
 Aa at the Cross ye see us now 
 
 In lowly reverence bow ? 
 
236 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 O Ears, sore pained to heat 
 Our pagan taunt and Jewish jeer, 
 List now the lisping love and praise 
 We penitent upraise! 
 
 Ye parched Lips that cry : 
 
 ' ' Eloi, lama, sabachthaui ? ' ' 
 
 Might we but througli the mad mob burst, 
 
 Might love's tears quench our thirst! 
 
 O steel and sin-pierced Side, 
 Whence flows the crimson healing tide 
 Of sacramental blood ! We pray thee, 
 May weeping thanks repay thee ? 
 
 Great bleeding, broken Heart, 
 What art allays thy cruel smart ? 
 Ah, freelier than the blood there flows 
 Thy mercy for thy foes ? 
 
 Prince of the Thorn-Crowned Brow! 
 All hail to Thee! All-sovereign now! 
 In healed hands thy sceptre take; 
 Love doth rebellion break! 
 
 O, thanks for the riven Side, 
 For the Heart not spear but love op'd wide; 
 So sin and song, so care and prayer, 
 Find welcome entrance there! 
 
 O Eyes, not in death's sleep 
 Ye close, our sins and woes ye weep; 
 Now open wide, dear Eyes, and see 
 Our joyous loyalty. 
 
 Brave Shoulders, wrenched and sore, 
 That on the Cross our burdens bore; 
 Embraces, kisses, tears would fain 
 Soothe down your strain and pain; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 237 
 
 Ay, soothe the strain and pain 
 So ye the fresher might may gain, 
 God's solemn years to bear adown 
 His battles of renown! 
 
 O strong Arms, wide extended 
 As though all worlds were comprehended 
 In your embrace; how strong be ye 
 To lift to life and liberty! 
 
 O Lips of love athirst 
 Now over all the world let burst 
 Not weak cry but godlike command; 
 All Lands attent shall stand. 
 
 Now, now, O healed Feet, 
 Forth to the fight lead on, and fleet! 
 And fast we follow in your train, 
 Sure victory to gain ! 
 
 Hear, hear, O pained Ears, 
 The song that through the years and spheres 
 Eings loud and sweet, with Joy complete, 
 Christ's triumph, hell's defeat! 
 
 Christ! Christ! From Cross come down ; 
 Assume Thy sceptre, wear Thy Crown! 
 Earth's welcomes all her tumults drown! 
 Hail! Saviour of Renown! 
 
 "Ay, what most sweetest, most rhapsodic 
 
 tears ; 
 Mine own I mingle with them — and My 
 
 prayers ! 
 My Soul's arms round Thee twine, Immortal 
 
 One; 
 
238 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 My thanks are Thine, My blessing, and My 
 
 Crown ; 
 Sit Thou on My right hand until I make 
 Thine enemies the footstool of Thy feet ! 
 
 " Over with tears. My Children ! Victory ! 
 Nay, spend not strength in weeping ; nor yet 
 
 much 
 In exultation ; time is brief ; work waits. 
 Kepent ; but hear His pardon-prayer : 
 
 • Father, 
 Forgive them, for they know not what they 
 
 do!' 
 Then call to mind how risen Christ did say : 
 * Hither thy finger, and behold My hands, 
 Hither thy hand, thrust it into M3" side ; 
 And be not faithless, but believing ! ' Those 
 Sore- wounded hands forefelt the sceptre He 
 Wields now ! The thorn-crown pressing piti- 
 lessly 
 Took measurement of that majestic brow 
 To fit therefor immortal diadem 
 For Coronation ! How He pardons ! Ay, 
 Pardons He My short hiding of My face, 
 When earth and stars and sun all glowered on 
 
 Him, 
 Since He would sound sin's deep, dark, grim 
 
 abysm ! 
 Weep not His dying ; that He came for 1 
 Take 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 239 
 
 His mercy ; that offsets His woes ! Love ; that 
 Indemnifies ! Then, for yourselves, submit ; 
 That's victory ! Serve ; that is luxury ! 
 Obey ; and find your freedom ! Therefore 
 
 swing 
 Your low notes higher ; mount to tones that 
 
 ring 
 And swing with consonances jubilant ! 
 The holy challenge fling : * O Death, where is 
 Thy sting ? O Grave, where is thy victory ? ' 
 — Great Death is swallowed up in Victory ! 
 
 " Yet know ye this ; nor in this world, nor else, 
 
 Is triumph final. Whoso wins a fight 
 
 Hath this advantage ; he hath made his point. 
 
 The foe is weakened, and himself more strong ; 
 
 Cometh thereon fresh impulse, braver heart ; 
 
 Then the immense momentum of his might. 
 
 The Lord Christ was and is and evermore 
 
 Shall Victor be — yet Warrior still ; not once 
 
 His sword and armor rusting, nor His helmet 
 
 Hung in the banquet-hall, insignia 
 
 Of a great Chief in arms and strategies 
 
 Laurelled to some forlorn retiracy. 
 
 * Conquering, and to conquer ' — and thus on, 
 
 World without end ; Amen ; — this the divine 
 
 Device illustrious on His shining shield ! 
 
 " Therefore his loyal legions may make sure 
 His victories ne'er cease. They need not fear 
 
240 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Lest some day courage shall lack chance for 
 
 feats 
 Of chivalry ; nor faith, hope, love grow weak 
 Through want of bracef ul using ; nor noblest 
 
 souls 
 Miss a new nobleness ; nor nations great 
 In virtue and in virtuous arms lament 
 There be no further fields for conquest. Shall 
 I drill My warriors to preeminence 
 Of soldiership, then banish them. My best, 
 To unheroic uselessness — their arms 
 And they to rust in cob webbed towers for 
 
 babes 
 To shrink from to their nurses' bosoms ? Nay 
 Kot puppets they, but veterans ripe for dan- 
 gers ! 
 O, up the angel-ladder each step shows 
 The ever widening horizon. God 
 Is infinite ; therefore shall He ne'er let 
 The finite compass all His plans ; nor this — 
 Though goodness sweep beyond all present 
 
 laws. 
 Nay, though this present measure of His 
 
 might 
 Need be immeasurably stretched ; and though 
 These stars, that twinkle as though making 
 
 fun 
 At human counting of them, be increased 
 Till every several atom of them all 
 Shall represent some populous Milky "Way ; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 241 
 
 Nay, should sainthood outgrow high angel- 
 hood, 
 And child of man redeemed sing psalmodies 
 That hush the hearkening heavens to deeper 
 
 praise ; 
 Yet, far aloft in rightness and in grace 
 As sun the slumberous earth above, shall burn 
 Ever transcending triumphings of Love ! 
 
 XXV 
 
 " My Children, hath it sometime pained ye 
 
 sore 
 Thinking of Jesu's sudden taking off — 
 So young? Threescore, threescore and ten, 
 
 fourscore. 
 These were their years who through the 
 
 Orient (^^> 
 Sowed far and wide, their unploughed acres 
 
 o'er, 
 The choicest grains they knew — unwinnowed 
 
 truths — 
 Whence teeming harvests sprang of tared 
 
 wheat ! 
 Nor uselessly taught they of honors due 
 Parents and forbears and the sovereign State ; 
 Better than maddened whirl of passion, mild 
 Gautama's subtle selfish selflessness ; 
 While Islam's sword, phrenzied at pagan rites. 
 Hewed the bright Crescent for the night's new 
 
 moon. 
 
242 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 And on Arabia's granite carved : ' Allah 
 
 Is One ! ' Grieve ye, these faultful prophets 
 
 had 
 Such profuse prodigality of years, 
 With wealth and culture, sword and sin 
 
 thrown in ; 
 Whilst My sweet Prince of Peace, on mercy 
 
 bent, 
 Might have no mercy from the hapless souls 
 He suffering sought to save ; nor apt disciples 
 
 have 
 Instant to catch His all-illumining thought ? 
 
 " He said : ' I have yet many things to say. 
 But now ye cannot bear them ! ' Ah, My 
 
 Children, 
 It pains ye sore — that hurried, harried life ; 
 Arrived at Jewish manhood, then no more 
 For great Messiah's work than three sad 
 
 years ; 
 So many as fill out weak babyhood. 
 So many as one takes to learn a trade. 
 Or get dry-nursed for college in cheap Greek, 
 Or be the painter-laureate to some hound ! 
 Ay, three years' hindered, hurten ministries 
 Of Painter, Poet, Prophet of My Truth ; 
 Then cut straight off by shears of envious 
 
 Fate ! 
 Life kissed out by a traitor, by His own 
 Betrayed out and forsaken out, by course 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 243 
 
 Of human law ruled out, crucified out 
 
 By Rome's rude rule, at a priest's bidding! 
 
 Shame, 
 The holy Temple did untemple Him ! 
 Shame ! Not in tourney, but a vulgar bout. 
 The umpire to the empire was — the Mob I 
 
 " And Nature shuddered at the sudden shock ! 
 So much had she to shew Him, Him who her 
 Had dowered with beauty and rich increase. 
 The vine-engirdled hills that terraced toward 
 The skies, lifting their fragrant incense cups 
 Of sacramental wine ; the sensitive lakes 
 That felt the sacred softness of His steps 
 And hushed their roystering ; the desert rocks 
 That almost softened into pillows meet 
 For that dear head in tearful prayer low-bend- 
 ing; 
 Olives and oaks that sighed to hear Him 
 
 weep; 
 The blind that saw Him and the deaf who 
 
 heard. 
 The lamed feet that ran to tell His grace ; 
 And a few honest toilers who had learned 
 To trust and love Him — then, alas, forsake ! — 
 These knew Him, and He knew. But this 
 
 great Globe, 
 The only star whereon He made His home, 
 He might see little of. O, with what most 
 Majestic Hallelujahs might have great 
 
244 "^HE DIVINE PkOCESSIONJL 
 
 Atlantic greeted Him — or where North Star, 
 Or Southern Cross or populous Zodiac rules ! 
 Mine islanded Pacific, in what grace 
 Of sweetness in her fragrant cradle had 
 She rocked Him, in her myriad-jewelled 
 
 hands 
 Had tossed Him, Infinite Infant of Days ! 
 
 " Ah, might He Himalaya's Heights have 
 
 reached. 
 Supreme Cathedral, with those burnished 
 
 domes, 
 Her myriad marble columns carved by storms, 
 Her thousand glittering pinnacles that pierce 
 Her clouds of daily incense and at night 
 Almost rub 'gainst the stars ; its galleries 
 Of marbled fire above the marble stairs 
 With glacier-praise loud-sounding ; then those 
 
 aisles 
 Of emerant veined with gold and diamond ; 
 Sweet vales of velvet verdure of Cashmere — 
 Up and down which what herds unworship- 
 
 ful! 
 'Twere godlike shrine for Son of God to pray ! 
 
 " Nor His to guest with royalty at Kome 
 And teach the Caesar how to be a king ; 
 Nor His in Athens at her Sages' feet 
 To taste philosophy ; nor His from land 
 To land to pass, their luscious fruitages 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 245 
 
 Enjoying ; and He pleased that through the 
 
 world 
 He had such sweetness sown for humble men ; 
 Nor His to see the beauteous form, and catch 
 The blush, the languor, the live lustrousness. 
 Of flowers that roam over the fragrant hills — 
 His golden texts for golden gospellings ! 
 I pardon ye, O Woods and Yales and Seas, 
 I pardon ye, dear Fruits and Flowers and 
 
 Thorns, 
 That when men turned against and I from 
 
 Him, 
 And darkness covered all, ye took alarm, 
 And disappointment yours ye saw Him not. 
 And your hurt heart did anger ye, and all 
 Your wanton gravities did pull on Him, 
 Tearing so sore those poor alms-laden palms ! 
 
 " Yet grieve not. Earth, bewildered at so short 
 A visit from the Master, His entrance 
 Into thy heart hath happy passage made 
 For Holy Ghost, who taketh things of Christ 
 And sheweth them to men. The winter's sun 
 But pricketh with the needles of his fire 
 The ice-bridge of the river ; the warm flow 
 Of waters underneath shall hasten all 
 The quivering, quaking ice-floes to the sea. 
 Let others through long years their message 
 
 mumble ; 
 Or long, or short. He speaks, and it is done ; 
 
246 THE DiVIME PROCESSIONJL 
 
 Himself the Word and proof, and Love His 
 
 sermon ! 
 It takes not long to plant the tiny graft, 
 And lo, how soon, how sure, how large the tree 
 With power of multiplying, and with fruits 
 The world to bless ! There shall an hand- 
 ful be 
 Of earth upon the mountain-top ; the fruit 
 Thereof shall shake like Lebanon. Therefore, 
 Earth, have thine undermirth ! Let this 
 
 thought cheer 
 And underbear thee, that with Me a day 
 Is as a thousand years, and they — a day. 
 Only make sure thou live near God, near God ! 
 
 " Planets that fondly form their orbits near 
 Their sun, not only win warmer embrace 
 And smile, but speedier make their merrier 
 
 round 
 Of years ! Let us have pity for the souls 
 That on the utmost borders shivering wend. 
 Like Neptune, green with envy ; ah, how slow 
 Adown the melancholy stream he steers 
 His lonesome, darksome w^ay ; the bounding 
 
 earth 
 Rearing two generations of her sons — 
 Each full four-scored, while one year old his 
 
 cold 
 And starvelling child ! Ay, mind thee, though, 
 
 bright Sphere, 
 
THE DIVINE PkOCESSlONJL 14J 
 
 Thou stray not on far-off Aphelion ways, 
 A frigid laggard ! All My stars affirm, 
 It does not pay to live so far from God ! 
 Therefore, be sure thou live near Him ; and 
 
 like 
 A merry planet basking in the sun 
 Thy life shall prove bright, fruitful Paradise. 
 Through all the years have I been planting new 
 And precious seeds of grace such as Eden 
 Ne'er knew; they hasten to their ripening. 
 Awake, O North wind ; come, O come, thou 
 
 South ; 
 Upon My garden blow ; let spices flow ! 
 Into My garden. My Beloved, come ; 
 Come, come, Beloved, eat My precious fruits ! " 
 
 Jksu, Fair Child of God and man, 
 
 Strange Heir of love and scorn, 
 Whose care for us our care foreran, 
 
 Whose Soul our sins hath borne; 
 
 'Twas Thine in all Thy pained life 
 
 Little of earth to know 
 Beyond her sin and strain and strife, 
 
 Her wanton want and woe. 
 
 Her woods had churches been for Thee, 
 
 Her hills for pulpits blest, 
 Her headstrong winds a melody. 
 
 Her waves Thy cradling rest! 
 
 Might'st Thou have seen, raight'st Thou have known 
 
 This Earth from east to west! 
 Might she have known she was Thine own 
 
 For whom Thy gracious quest! 
 
248 THE DIFINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Now to Thy rightful conquests haste, 
 
 Of worlds without, within; 
 Enrich with peace our wildest waste, 
 
 Grow blessing from our sin. 
 
 Haste, Master! Haste Thee to Thy crown; 
 
 Creation groans for Thee; 
 Her shame convert to glad renown, 
 
 Her moans to minstrelsy. 
 
 Jesu! Thy rightful empire build 
 
 O'er all the land and sea, 
 Till every heart be filled and thrilled 
 
 With loyal love of Thee! 
 
 Then through the myriad centuries prove 
 
 More and more immanent still; 
 All things below, like all above, 
 
 God's incarnated will! 
 
 " ' Ay, I come quickly ! ' saith My Christ. 
 
 ' Amen ! 
 Even so, come. Lord Jesus ! ' cries the Earth. 
 My benediction on ye both ! The grace 
 Of God the Father on ye all 1 Amen. 
 
 XXVI 
 
 " O World, fair World, O World of Mine ; be- 
 hold. 
 He comes again with brave design and grace 
 Divine for all the sons of men. Once more 
 Great Christ is born. New angels into new 
 Clouds fling their new acclaim ; new shep- 
 herds hear 
 Them ; and new sages from the newer East 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 249 
 
 Pilgrim atross the wondering deserts wide, 
 Their golden learnings laying at His feet, 
 Antique frankincensed praise, and prayers 
 
 whose myrrh 
 Doth signify the bitterness of tears ! 
 These at His crib they lay, and worship Him. 
 And Gentiles to His light shall come ; and 
 
 kings — 
 Ay, to the Brightness of His Rising — Kings ! 
 
 " Such Day is visibly here ; and kings be here. 
 And queens, with father-love and mother-love 
 To nurse and raise Him to His rightful throne 
 Right worthily, as fits a worthy monarch, 
 No kinglet He ; nor kinglets they, and queen- 
 lets ; 
 But genuine Sovereigns — as false titles read 
 Of sceptred Brigands — ' by the grace of 
 
 God!' 
 Thrones theirs, and wide domains, and dia- 
 dems 
 "With nobler jewelries than from dark mines 
 And silvery seas rise to compete with stars ; 
 And conquests theirs that shame and dwarf 
 The glory of the managers of war ! 
 Real lords and kings be they, under Him who 
 Thereby is King of Kings and Lord of Lords ! 
 
 " Such kings be they who for the Master's 
 sake 
 
250 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Prove masters of themselves, by gentleness 
 Be strong, by giving gain, servants of God 
 And opulent heirs of Christ's Beatitudes. 
 The world is rich in kingdoms and in kings. 
 Such be by a divine right kings and queens 
 As in sweet homes rear princes for My courts ; 
 Such as, like Pharaoh's princely daughter, find 
 Among neglected bulrushes a waif 
 And in the very palace of their love 
 Train him to reverend priestliness to lead 
 Mine own elect through frighted, frightening 
 
 deserts 
 Into the land of fruitful peace. And such 
 Be they who in a genuine knightship shield 
 Some sweet fresh maiden truth the bigots put 
 Their brutal hands on, and gowned sciolists 
 Anatomize to death ; or a heaven-born cause 
 Espouse, — misunderstood, maligned, and nailed 
 To torture on a vulgar cross ; who 'neath 
 Its tragic shadows kneel, and kiss and bear 
 Away the mangled form, to love it back 
 To resurrection and conquests benign 
 That hint a hasting Messianic reign ! 
 
 " And such be they who on their mission holy 
 Enter the dragoned caverns of the globe, 
 Their monsters face and shame to friendliness, 
 Play with the dark and tickle it to smiling 
 Till its bright laughter stirs the world to light- 
 ness; 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 251 
 
 In weeds find flowers, and healings in the 
 
 poisons, 
 Turn the rude jangling discords into praise, 
 And move the sullen earth to mirth, knowing 
 The stars benignly look and sweetly in her 
 
 face. 
 Earth hath been sick and lonely, a cast-off 
 Among the spheres ; but though it hath been 
 
 lost, 
 Lost, sadly lost, as in a rubbish-loft. 
 Its finding now is near ! Hear ye My words ; 
 Though it hath lien among the pots, yet shall 
 It be as wings of a dove covered with silver, 
 Its dusted pinions flush with yellow gold ! 
 — Ay, such My kings as help Me find lost 
 
 worlds. 
 
 " Find, find Me worlds, My Kings, My Queens ! 
 
 Find worlds 
 That wander in a distant maze ! Find worlds 
 For worlds of love My wandering wards 
 
 among ! 
 Find for Me worlds that hide in idling play, 
 Or infant fears adown the atoms' way ! 
 Ay, 'mong the ethers in eternal space. 
 Disporting, dancing, bounding in the chase. 
 Find, find Me quick, the elfin spirits bright 
 That swing the countless torches of the night 
 Around the patient progress of the moon. 
 And dash the dayshine down into the noon ! 
 
252 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " Ay, find Me worlds where I interiorly 
 And godlikely may rule. These turned I oflf 
 From My bare finger-tips, and by these same 
 I bless them. Now from My heart-tips, nay, 
 
 but 
 From deepest fountains of My soul I pray 
 To bless ! Find, find Me worlds whereinto I 
 The essences and vital energies 
 May pour, that quicken and upspring and fair 
 Surprise themselves into eternals ! Find 
 Me worlds whose palpitating arteries 
 I may fill full with such rich crimson love 
 As spilled itself heart-hot on Calvary's 
 
 breast ! 
 — Their very void invites My gracious fullness. 
 
 "Find Me the Wealths that stagger 'neath 
 
 their cares, 
 "With emptiness that comes of surfeit pained ; 
 Gaunt Wealths, that at the doors of Poverties 
 Stand, hat in hand, a-begging, or in debt 
 To labor, and their obligations deem 
 To cancel by loud public charities ; 
 So straitened — they besiege the very laws 
 To shew them mercy, and conspire 
 Great wars to help them market off their 
 
 wares ! 
 Ah, bring them Me ! And I will loose their 
 
 bands. 
 Undo their heavy burdens, let th' oppressed 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 253 
 
 Go free 1 O, this My fast ! Come unto Me, 
 All ye that labor with your twinging pride, 
 And are with unwon tributes heavy-laden. 
 And I will give you rest ! And take My yoke, 
 And learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly 
 Of heart. And ye shall find rest to your 
 
 souls ! 
 My yoke is easy, and My burden light. 
 O, if into your penury might flow 
 His metal, who for your sakes made Him poor, 
 That through His poverty ye might be rich ! 
 — Eich, therefore, be ! Coin gold from alms ! 
 The gardens of the soul, else sterile, win 
 Heaven's grateful tear-storms through fertil- 
 ities. 
 The generous clouds that Afric's burning sands 
 Repel, water the Mediterranean, 
 Make Italy, and dome the Alps with glory ! 
 
 " Ay, to your gilded garrets get, and fling - 
 Your surplus mantles merrily o'er My poor. 
 Compel the world to bless you with its thanks ; 
 Not for the praise's sake, but My dear world's. 
 Be just to justice, right toward every right, 
 The wrong redeem, and make My weaklings 
 
 strong ; 
 Toward God be godlike, manly toward all 
 
 men ; 
 Your love shall make your very riches rich, 
 And faithless fasts celestial festivals 1 " 
 
254 "THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 XXYII 
 
 "O, what to Me were worth My sovereign 
 
 powers 
 Save I might use them ? What to Me to own 
 One vast eternal void, except to charge 
 It with My vigors ? What, My gravities 
 That I impose upon broad-shouldered spheres, 
 Which else would crush Me ? What, electric 
 
 fires 
 That else would burn and blister Me; My 
 
 stores 
 Of light, that else would blind ; My musics. 
 That else wise would in Mine own helpless soul 
 Burst into endless echoes tunelessly ; 
 My love, that else would die, not having aught 
 To feed on, or to feed ; Mine arms of might. 
 That would aweary grow and sore, striking 
 With infinite force out upon vacancy ? 
 What these to Me, inhabiting eternity, 
 With open-mouthed vacuity around ? 
 'T would craze a God ! 
 
 " Ay, what's a God for ? Merely 
 To sit in state ? To be an Ornament, 
 Or Wonder? or perchance a Fright ? or just 
 To enjoy Nirvana ? Just to say : ' I am ' ? 
 Nay, nay ! I am ! but not an All in nought, 
 Nor Naught in all ; but All in All supreme, 
 Might of all mights. Light of all lights, the 
 Love 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 255 
 
 Of love, the Harmony of harmonies ! 
 Grace ! Grace to help in every time of need ; 
 This is My fond and fundamental Creed ! 
 Rather would I some gentle Christian be, 
 Than stately, heartless, useless Deity I 
 
 " 0, as for Me, I be an Heretic — 
 Measured by standards of the sycophants 
 Who laud or crouch, who would hurrah or 
 
 damn, 
 As custom happened, or as they supposed 
 An infinite Tyrant would impose. For Me, 
 I fling such worthless honors to the winds, — 
 The compliments of cowards, flatteries 
 Of fools, the smoking incense hiding Me 
 From sight of My poor children, the proud 
 
 pomp 
 Of sumptuous worship ! What for these care I, 
 With countless choirs of fervid firmaments 
 Pavilioned round ? If men be at their 
 
 prayers, 
 And some hurt babe cries on the street, hy all 
 Means let them quit My presence to attend 
 That babe ; nay, they do quit Me not ; I speed 
 With them and hear them on their way. I 
 
 say. 
 True love is prayer ! Nor better can they 
 
 pray. 
 Worse were a godless God than a godless 
 
 man — 
 
256 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Infinite Sultan on blood-stained divan ! 
 Nay, let Me, rather, simple Christian be, 
 Than heartless, helpless, hopeless Deity ! 
 
 " This My religion ; nay, for Me there may 
 None other be. I worship God, not self ; 
 No, though Self be infinite Hierarch ! 
 May parents sin less faultily than babes ? 
 For Me to worship infinite Self were right 
 No more than for Earth's willful little selves ; 
 Nor Self I worship, but true God, and Him 
 I yield to, just like Jesus Christ, My Son ; 
 The conscious, infinite, beneficent, 
 Non-egoistic Ego of the World — 
 Than whom none other so great Duty bears ! 
 Therefore at Love's own sacred Altar do 
 I call on all true worshippers with Me 
 To kneel, and prayers uplift, and alms to 
 
 give. 
 And consecrations make of choicest alls ; 
 And I loud strike the note of praise for them 
 To join in and melodiously sing. 
 Let all unto My banqueting-house move 
 Whose welcoming banner over all is Love ! 
 
 " Come, come, poor Earth ; I love thee ; I 
 
 bless thee ; 
 Thy love with My love mingles ; let us pray ! 
 So Love shall hear Love's prayers, and answer 
 
 soon. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL is-j 
 
 Come, come, poor Earth, with all My thirsts, 
 
 behold. 
 With thirst I thirst for thee. Come, bring 
 
 thy sires 
 And sons, thy fasts and feasts, thy poverties 
 That faint before the Church's door ; thy 
 
 prides 
 That hear them not while themselves cry for 
 
 more. 
 Bring Me the buoyant hopes, the dire despairs 
 That shudder lest My tender hand may hurt. 
 Bring thy wan woes that cannot live, nor die ; 
 Bring thy coarse envies, all thy hates insane ; 
 Bring all thy coward wars, that screen them- 
 selves 
 Behind impregnable breastworks of some 
 "Well-engineered phrase of diplomacy 
 Surprising to the pagan gods ! Bring then 
 All that thou hast of promise ; all thine alms 
 Humane, thy manly pressing toward the good, 
 Thy prayers in many a tongue untutored 
 
 prayed ; 
 I feel their fervor ; My heart their heart hears. 
 Thy big ambitions for this New Age bring — 
 Proud and exultant as it springs aloft 
 To do what centuries had not dared to pray ! 
 
 " My Nations, O My Nations, marvel not ; 
 Puissant, brave, ay, Christian ! One war 
 more I 
 
258 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 One straight and sturdy struggle ; nor for fame, 
 Nor vengeance, nor your rights. Yet crim- 
 soning let 
 It be ! Let the seas feel your courage so 
 In mighty tidal waves their onsets turn 
 And flee. Thunders shall stand aghast and 
 
 speechless I 
 The mountains at your presence shall flow 
 
 down ! 
 Ay, not that ye shove out red murders 'mongst 
 The peoples terrified ; this battle be 
 The Lord's ! Proud, deathful, sterile wars not 
 
 Mine! 
 Alas, alas, My Nations, that when ye 
 Have slain your millions, millions more must 
 
 die 
 Through war's foul stench My peoples poison- 
 ing ; 
 Years craped in mourning o'er their dead ! 
 
 Wo's Me, 
 Reluctant justice must be forced to wraths, 
 And love to laws and tasks unlovable ! " 
 
 With wrath in mercy and mercy in wrath 
 Jehovah cradleth His great wide swath 
 Through rank-grown wrongs to carve a path 
 To the freedoms He for His people hath. 
 
 Far over the oceans travel] eth He 
 In majesty of cannonry, 
 And by loud earthquakes out at sea 
 Lifts islands to light and liberty. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 259 
 
 And boastful nations of ancient fame 
 That thwart His will He sinks to shame ; 
 And — hinder who will, 'tis just the same — 
 The rights of Right He will maintain proclaim. 
 
 When He arise th for the right 
 Night flames effulgent with strange light, 
 And weakness grows to a terrible might, 
 And the finite smacks of the infinite ! 
 
 But the years are weary with wear and tear 
 Of bootless battles so everywhere; 
 Great God! how bold be we who dare 
 Thy judgments just! O Lord, us spare! 
 
 O, happy the peoples that glad obey, 
 And perish they who say Him, Nay! 
 O World! Great World! His mercy pray; 
 Make sure thou follow Him straightway. 
 
 Nay, let not men with men contend. 
 But men for men, like friend for friend ; 
 And down to Hell send hell, and bend 
 Their wrath to ruth, world without end! 
 
 E'en now, high up the spires of time 
 The wakeful watchers eager climb ; 
 Hark! how the bells in rapture-rhyme 
 Chime out Love's victories sublime! 
 
 " Ay, to Love's more inviting victories 
 I call. Away, My Nations, quick away 
 With prides and jealousies and blows whose 
 
 fierce 
 Kebounds hurt deeper than your foes' re- 
 venges. 
 
26o THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 Nature is shocked at all your cruel feuds ; 
 The sensitive air quivers and cries for pain 
 At war's harsh thunders ; she flies them hurt- 
 ling 
 Into the skies ; frightened My heavens hear 
 Such clanging uproar as I never made 
 Them for; and hurl them howling, pounding, 
 
 down 
 On pointed peaks of loud protesting moun- 
 tains ; 
 In very crucifixions clamorous 
 With mutual upbraidings ; dead and still 
 At last in the deep dungeons of the dark ! 
 Not for such cries sprang I these arching 
 
 skies. 
 O, rather, far, for holy cadences 
 That softly undulate like angels' wings, 
 Paeans of joy, tried first in heaven, then 
 Found meet to train ye in your singing here. 
 Hark, how My seraphs soothe the suffering 
 
 air, 
 Swinging incensed musics up the flights 
 Of stars. Let heaven rejoice ; let earth be 
 glad ! 
 
 " Haste ye, My Nations, to such wars as laurel 
 Conquered and conquering, both, with victory. 
 Beaten at the outset they who wrongly win ! 
 Let Love lead forth your legions fast a-field 
 To seize her triumphs for the Prince of Peace. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 261 
 
 Flash through the mists the search-light of 
 your mercy ; 
 
 Train on your foes your heavy cannonries, 
 
 Bombarding them with red-hot charities ; 
 
 Outwit by honest strategies of grace ; 
 
 Avenge proud hate with unrelenting love ! 
 
 — What if those foes turn allies to the Christ ? 
 
 What if among them Mine elect shall be ? 
 
 Touch Mine anointed not, nor prophets harm ! 
 
 O, one Love for one wide Humanity ; 
 
 One Crest, one Christ, one Cross, one Com- 
 monwealth ! 
 
 iVbn, ministrari, as but fools insist ; 
 
 Sed ministrare^ as saith Christian Christ ! 
 
 " The paradoxes of His kingdom test, 
 
 Which fit alike for nations and for men. 
 
 Spending your strength upon the weak, grow 
 strong ; 
 
 Helping the poor to plenty, be ye rich ; 
 
 Lifting the lowly, spring ye straight and tall ; 
 
 Lead My poor blind, and find your own bright 
 way; 
 
 Teach lisping babes, and learn My deeper wis- 
 doms ; 
 
 If for your feeding ye best crops would raise. 
 
 In soiled souls and quagmire lives plant good ; 
 
 Unloose men's heavy burdens, yours fall off, 
 
 Or courage makes their carriage a pleasantry ; 
 
 ^ "Not to be ministered unto, but to minister." 
 
262 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 
 
 Yet love ye for love's sake and not your own, 
 Lest selfish sweetness soon ferment to sour. 
 To heaven would rise ? From hell lift dreaded 
 
 foe ; 
 And gain fine training for fresh feats at 
 
 arms. 
 "Who taketh not the poorest pagan's part 
 Let him beware the pagan in his heart. 
 Love, love is the fulfilling of the law. 
 Angels, like kites, might fall, not balanced by 
 Un winged souls to pull upon their flight ! 
 To heave is literal root and growth of heaven. 
 O Men ! O Nations ! Do ye feel the draw 
 Of sunken peoples on your vaulting heights ? 
 The lowly lift ; let love fulfill her law ; 
 Upswing with clinging wards to holier heights ! 
 
 "Be this mind in you which in Jesu was, 
 Who, on equality with God, emptied 
 Himself, and took a servant's form, and in 
 The likeness and the fashion of a man 
 Was made, obedient unto death, even 
 Death on the Cross ; wherefore highly did 
 
 God 
 Exalt Him, named Him all great names above ; 
 That at the Name of Jesu every knee 
 Should bow, in heaven and earth and under 
 
 earth. 
 And every tongue confess that Jesu Christ 
 Is Lord, unto the glory of God, the Father. 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 263 
 
 " Therefore, at worthier business be than that 
 
 Of idly questioning the portents, when 
 
 Shall Jesu come ? how ? where ? and when, O 
 
 when, 
 The thousand years of peace ? My kingdom 
 
 shall 
 Not come with observation. If one say, 
 ' Lo, here is Christ ' ; or, ' There ' ; believe it 
 
 not; 
 "Within you is the kingdom of the Lord. 
 As Jesu once was seen to heaven to go. 
 So in like manner shall ye see Him come. 
 But of that day and hour knoweth no man, 
 Nor angels ; nor did Son of Man in th' zone 
 Of human life know when ; only the Father. 
 "Watch, lest ye know not when the Master 
 
 come ; 
 Yet stand ye not, into the heavens agaze ; 
 Leave signs and days and Comings with the 
 
 Lord ; 
 The kingdom, ay, the very King's within. 
 Lift up your heads, ye Gates, e'en lift them up ; 
 The King, the King of glory shall come in ! 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 " Let every gate swing open to the King ! 
 
 O, dear to Me the very weaknesses 
 
 That give My mercy opportunity. 
 
 Dear to sweet Jesu this woe-world, that He 
 
 Might plant His mighty heart in, so therefrom 
 
264 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 As from a garden rich with jungle mire 
 His heart-seed might to plenteous fruitage 
 grow. 
 
 " By what arch tricks Love wins her way ! 
 
 'Tis said, 
 'Night is defined by darkness, death by 
 
 dust.' (^) 
 Yet on the ebon curtains of the night 
 Rich clusters of world-flashing stars I pin. 
 And, dust ? Dust also will I find use for ; (^') 
 And that aside from fields whose chemistries 
 Work miracles for homes of rich and poor. 
 O, 'tis the very dust, from travelled roads. 
 From unswept alleys, sooty chimneys, woods 
 Afire and ashen with big frights, tall flues 
 That steam their smoking blackness 'gainst 
 
 white skies. 
 Dust the brusque cyclones whip from sterile 
 
 plains, — 
 'Tis dust wherefor My sovereign wit hath use. 
 'Tis dust that in the sky, or in the chamber 
 Where all the home-loves gather, intercepts 
 The sunbeams fierce and makes them soft 
 
 diffuse 
 (For else sharp slants of blinding bright) 
 Through humble hermitage or troubled cloud 
 Those toned tints that hint of home and 
 
 heaven. 
 'Tis just the dusty atoms that do catch 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 265 
 
 The raindrops on their tiny palms, and weave 
 Rainbows to ribbon earth's steep stairs to 
 
 God; 
 Ay, 'tis plain dust that gathers radiant clouds, 
 Groups them in mighty grandeurs in the skies. 
 Heads off the torrents and tornadoes wild, 
 Holds back the too tumultuous thunderbolts, 
 And bathes with blessings of the gentler rains 
 The fields that raise thank-harvests to their 
 
 Lord! 
 
 " Bring, bring Me quick, nor crooning o'er the 
 
 past, 
 Nor counting off weird cabalistic years, 
 Nor 'mong My startled prophecies romancing, 
 Nor fearing lest your hopes too hopeful be. 
 Or faith seem overgrasping after good ; 
 Bring, bring Me quick what hath no use but 
 
 ill — 
 What I may try My gracious cleverness at, — 
 Black dark a-quiver with imprisoned light. 
 Great famines bursting with their bread and 
 
 wine. 
 Graves cradling infant immortalities ! 
 Where sin aboundeth grace shall more abound. 
 The pagan idols have this merit, that. 
 So gross, so impious, they have carved been 
 From purest marbles, which fair stuff I take, 
 And, paring down the caricatures, recarve 
 Into a noble manly godlikeness. 
 
266 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " When My brave Leonardo would portray <"J 
 The Holy Supper where the Christ last sat 
 With His disciples sad, breaking the bread 
 For broken hearts to eat, and pouring wine 
 That symbolled love divine; where might He 
 
 find 
 The marvellous features that should match the 
 
 Master's ; 
 And, easier task, so human followers ? 
 Ay, where but in the markets and faubourgs 
 Where grouped the tricksy knaves and jocose 
 
 idlers, 
 Milano's dainty dilletantes in vice. 
 Villains in velvet, keen stiletto-e3^ed, 
 KufRans to hire for murder while the soft 
 Sweet bells were summoning to the Sacra- 
 ment ? 
 So strolled he quaint Milano's stalls among 
 For facial contrasts hinting likenesses. 
 Coarse brutal brows that scowled their subtle 
 
 smile. 
 Affections scalding into jealousies. 
 Intrigues that snuffed of wisdoms, heart-hurt 
 
 hates. 
 Lawless exaggerations of some grace 
 That gave all else eccentric viciousness. 
 
 " Thence to his studio this man, to put 
 Into each portrait some hard fact, to which 
 Yet harder might he add, whereby at length 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 267 
 
 All harmonized into surprised forms 
 Of Saint-Apostles ! Then from hornier quarries 
 Was reverently wrought the Master's face! 
 All this, just as from fractured gems pupils 
 In art would cast away in scorn, masters 
 Will make magnificent mosaics, to place 
 Upon the walls of some renowned cathedral. 
 So bring, bring Me, the shattered, spoiled forms 
 Of good, the weird grotesquenesses of earth, 
 The maimed, the gaunt, the lost humanities; 
 And on them shall My sacred artists work ; 
 And on the walls of My Cathedral shall 
 I hang immortal frescoes and mosaics 
 Of saints, apostles, martyrs, very Christ, — 
 Again all at the Blessed Banquet met ! 
 
 " O, if I set diamonds in raindrops, if 
 On the dark canvas of dissolving clouds 
 I paint the radiant rainbow, sacred sign 
 Of covenanted love, how shall I not 
 My best art use painting My children's por- 
 traits, 
 To hang high up My chambers in the sky ! 
 O, bring Me now the sombre storms of tears 
 For Me to paint My bow of promise on ; 
 Bring Me sore fragmented ambitions, dread 
 Despairs, poor heartless hearts, wrecks, ruins, 
 
 wraths. 
 Rock-hearts that sins and tyrannies have 
 ground, 
 
268 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 The flouted refuse of these diamond-pits ! 
 
 O Men, Times, Angels! Help Me these to 
 
 shape 
 For reverent use, and then with love's finesse 
 Portray new guests at this dear Sacrament ! 
 This do ye in remembrance oft of Me. 
 
 " Haste, haste ye on, My gentle Miracles ! 
 Ah, some day one shall learn the alchemy 
 Whereby pain leaps to pleasure. He shall 
 
 teach 
 Magnetic currents how to thrill torture 
 With bliss ecstatic, fusing the dark blood 
 With such Nepenthen waters as defy 
 Ardenne to spoil earth's homely quietage. 
 Bring Me the pains that pant for sure sur- 
 cease, 
 The tired and torturing travails of the poor. 
 Dear faiths that stagger at the temple-gates 
 'Midst surpliced prides and cloistered unbe- 
 liefs, 
 The fretted hopes of noble souls that wait 
 For truths to trust and generous deeds to do. 
 
 " Bring Me the feeble forest-folk, such as 
 Along the Congo's dolorous sources feel 
 But feeblest pulse of humble huraanhood ; 
 Bring such as in the savage North tone up 
 Their hardy grit in storms, and whet their 
 wits 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONJL 269 
 
 On rasping glaciers, and hear My voice among 
 The rattling battles of the thunder-skies ; 
 Ay, bring Me these My backward sons and 
 
 daughters 
 Whom I will train into this Christian age. 
 I will not that in these impelling times, 
 Impatient of the isthmuses, these fare (^^) 
 Far round the age-long continental coasts ; 
 But, shunning wreck and dangers of delays. 
 Course right through from Pelusium to Suez ! 
 Therefore bring Me My nursling nations quick 
 Whom I to Christlike manhood quick may 
 
 rear; 
 So shall the olden prophecies fulfill : ^^^ 
 ' Before she travailed she brought forth ; be- 
 fore 
 Her pain a child was given her. Who hath 
 Heard such a thing ? Such who hath seen? 
 A land born in one day ? Hear Me ! Shall I 
 To the birth bring, and not cause to bring 
 
 forth ? 
 The whole creation travaileth in pain 
 Together until now ! Ourselves also ! 
 Nations shall on their bosoms bear My sons, 
 My daughters on their shoulders ; kings shall 
 
 be 
 Their nursing fathers, and their mothers 
 
 queens.' 
 Kings ! Queens ! Bring Me the babes and 
 
 sucklings 
 
270 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 That in the wildernesses cry, and stretch 
 Their starved arms into the dark. As ye 
 Would live, take these and nurse them up for 
 Me! 
 
 " Who knoweth but to such of different lands 
 
 And bloods new sense of spiritual truths 
 
 I may impart ? What if their nerves of soul 
 
 Be keenlier sensitive to certain pains 
 
 Of falseness ? What if some color-blindness, 
 
 theirs 
 Or yours, should start dispute about My rain- 
 bows 
 Which I meant as the covenant sign of peace ? 
 What if among them Kings should rise, to 
 
 rule 
 In some unhackneyed righteousness ; or what 
 If Prophets of a keener visioning 
 And straighter speech ; or some great Prophet- 
 Priests 
 With sacrifice and worship sacreder, 
 With psalms and hymns and spiritual songs 
 So far above or different from the common 
 That fault be found with too rich incense- 
 cloud. 
 As though obscuring God, and darkening 
 day? 
 
 " Nay, fly far fast such unbelieving faiths. 
 Such impious piety, such unloving love ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 271 
 
 Nay, nay, there may not be delay. Not more 
 An hungered is the seed for earth than earth 
 For seed ; not more the parched prairies cry 
 For water than the heavens thunderously 
 That all their windows may be opened wide. 
 The better spirit of this time reads right 
 The message of My Son. ^ Go ye to all 
 The world, and preach the Gospel to the 
 
 whole 
 Creation.' And the stupid brutes do feel 
 That man is kindlier to man — and them. 
 And science and philosophy and art, 
 And laws and labors, affluence and wants. 
 All know it ; and proud wars like cowards 
 
 flee. 
 My new Day breaks and shadows flee away. 
 As through the world Love goes a-gospel- 
 
 ling! 
 
 XXIX 
 
 " Ay, through the world Love goes a-gospelling 
 "With eyes bent low to search each earthly 
 
 need, 
 With eyes uplift expectant of the Christ ; 
 And the stars hear her on her singing way 
 Until they melt into the golden day 
 Find, find Me worlds, whether in stellar wastes 
 Or wider, weirder wastes of human need ; 
 Lo, thither Love with eagle-winged hastes 
 And ravishing expectances shall speed ! 
 
272 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 " Find, find Me now, to-night, some wayward 
 
 world 
 Whose wearied worship flits on wounded 
 
 wing — 
 Her sightless songs among laments astray ; 
 Some day she may of all My choristers 
 The sweetest, strongest, angelist minstrel be ! 
 
 "Find, find Me worlds into whose dark and 
 
 doom 
 I may the ripened light and fire of all 
 Past ages pour, making them gleam with 
 
 glory. 
 Ay, bring Me, haste Me, virtuous, virile years 
 'Gainst strife astrife, alove with love, lordly 
 Impatient for the passing of the wrong ; 
 Right knightly years of old hearthsome 
 
 noblesse 
 With Virgin Love's rare favor on their breasts, 
 Who pure in heart the infidels shall o'ercome, 
 And find the long elusive Holy Grail 
 Angels have hid from sacrilegious search ; 
 Its sacramental blood as vital as 
 That poisoned afternoon when Joseph prest 
 The conscious bowl to Jesu's bleeding breast I 
 
 " Bring, bring Me worlds whose pallid lips in 
 
 haste 
 Shall taste the wine of love from chalice 
 
 chaste ! 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 273 
 
 " Ay, bring Me Years that knightlily shall find 
 
 It, rescue it, drink deep of it, and pass 
 
 It reverent round ; then speeding to their 
 
 tryst. 
 Swear fealty to our Sir Knight Jesu Christ ! 
 Is not this the Communion of the Blood 
 Of Christ ? What saith He ? * Drink ye aU 
 
 of it ! ' 
 — That multitudinous plural ! ^^^ Drink ye, 
 
 All! 
 Ye All ; Plural of excellence ! (-«) Ye All ! 
 
 " Thou, Earth, a vessel of the Lord shalt be, 
 Large Holy Grail, holding in noble trust 
 The precious Blood, the very wine of love 
 That from the suffering Saviour's bosom 
 
 flowed ! 
 Some great Day, thou, — circling the heavens 
 
 round 
 From arch to arch, — the peopled worlds, awe- 
 struck 
 At thy conspicuous eminence of grace. 
 Shall touch thine outer rim, the virtue taste. 
 And thrill with th' wondrous story of the 
 
 Cross ; 
 And drink in memory of Jesu ! Earth ! 
 My Chalice choice, My eucharistic Cup ! 
 Fill thee with wine to sumptuous overflow ; 
 Thou, too, art Cup of Blessing which I bless ! 
 See that for all thou fill thee to the brim 
 
274 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 In love's most sweet remembrances of Him ! 
 — I, too, do dream ! And sun and moon afar 
 Obeisance make to Him, — and startled star !" 
 
 — Ceased now the Voice ! — And whether bowed 
 
 we low, 
 Or stood upgazing ; and or short or long 
 The reverent adoring — we know not, 
 Nor knew ; for in such concourse heavenly 
 Time is and is not long nor short. We seemed 
 To know what meant: "Time is no more." 
 
 Then rose 
 From our companions rhapsody supreme ; 
 As shone, through all the shining round, their 
 
 faces 
 And forms beatitudinously holy ! 
 
 Staks on the watch-towers of infinite height, 
 Blither and brighter because of the night, 
 Flush with fresh lustre and thrill with new joy; 
 Songs of Redemption your praises employ 1 
 
 Sing we a weird and a mystical song ? 
 Have ye no word for such love in your tongue ? 
 Hasten your speed to these far-away skies 
 Whither the Earth with her love-burden hies. 
 
 Here shall ye meet the strange orb that hath sprung 
 Sin and its perils and terrors among, 
 Risking to roam in the darkness of space. 
 Wandering far from the Lord and His grace ; 
 
 Wandering star that no star may deliver 
 From reserved blackness of darkness forever I — 
 Lo, though, the Sun hath arisen upon her; 
 He hath away with her guilt and dishonor I 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL z-js 
 
 Hither swift journey, and hither your gaze ; 
 See in Earth's cradle the Infant of Days ; 
 Here in the form of a Servant doth hide 
 One in whom manhood and godhood reside ! 
 
 Hither haste, all ye most mightiest Spheres, 
 Hither with love and with pity and tears ; 
 Lowly the life of the dear Son of God, 
 Lowly and lonely the path He hath trod. 
 
 Smitten with sorrow for sinners below, 
 Smitten by sinners a sorrowful blow,- 
 Under dark olives where ye might not see. 
 Under woe-weight of the world bended He 1 
 
 Worth all the wealth of the world is the love 
 That itself valueth all worlds above ; 
 For life of Love His own Ufe counts He loss ; 
 Life for the world is His wage on the Cross. 
 
 Stars of the Morning, and Stars of the Night, 
 Hither your hasting and rapturous flight ; 
 Learn the glad Story, and taste the rich Love 1 
 Speed the Evangel through abysses above 1 
 
 Fill thee with Wine, Eucharistical Cup I 
 Earth, at thy brim worlds of worlds thirst to sup I 
 Thou, Elect Sphere where the Saviour hath trod, 
 Fill thee with measurele.ss measures of God 1 
 
 As thus up toward the stars their song they 
 
 threw 
 Who thence on singing wing had hither flown, 
 Upon their features such seraphic light 
 We saw, as else in long reserve is held 
 Till when we mortals shall the Lord behold, 
 And to His likeness wake. Yanished at once 
 
276 THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 
 
 All traces of the spectral scene around ; 
 Nature at rest ; and that sore wounded spot 
 Sweet healed of its supernal tragicness ! 
 
 " Farewell ! " said they who homeward now 
 
 would go ? 
 " Farewell ! " said we who homeward now 
 
 must turn ? 
 Too high our conference, too blessed such 
 Prophetic oracles, too deep engrossed 
 Their thought and ours in holy hopes, to weep 
 In sad good-byes ! Upward and upward 
 
 swung 
 They like embodied musics, and sang down 
 Their love ; while upward gazed we stedfastly, 
 Till clouds of light received them from our 
 
 sight. 
 Then minded we our homeward way to wend 
 Where humble tasks in Jesu's Name invite ; 
 — Till He shall lead us to our Olivet. 
 
 Meanwhile, as foretime it had strange be- 
 
 happed 
 In that impressive presence of the Cross, 
 When heard we in most deep-awed ecstasy 
 Our star-born friends interpretation give 
 Of these strange prodegies ; so now again, 
 Save with a far exceeding antheming, 
 A song burst forth men might attempt in 
 
 vain I 
 
THE DIVINE PROCESSIONAL 277 
 
 Some angels must have joined them from the 
 
 sky, 
 And myriad starry strangers joined their 
 
 choir ; 
 Such rich tumult of multitudinous praise, 
 As though from all the radiant spheres our 
 
 guests 
 Had visited, had floated hither strains 
 Of their selectest melodies ; as though 
 The ancient songs of God's great Morning 
 
 Stars 
 Had fallen in pieces and come quivering down, 
 A shower of shining, singing meteors ! 
 
Notes 
 
 1. p. 9. Under this title, The Wonder-Cross: Imma- 
 nence, a portion of the beginning of this poem was read some 
 years ago at a general convention of the Delta Upsilon Col- 
 lege Fraternities, held at Colby University, Waterville, Me., 
 which was ''printed but not published " in the Delta Upsilon 
 Magazine. 
 
 2. p. 40. See in Farrar's Life of Christ, chapter one, ex- 
 tract from the Gospel of St. James, known as the Protevan- 
 gelium, chapter eighteen, this ancient rhapsodic concept of 
 Nature's sacred hush at Jesus' birth. 
 
 3. p. 46. A pathetic ancient tradition of the woods of the 
 Cross. 
 
 4. pp. 59 and 123, etc. For further spiritual treatment, 
 of the unconscious interpenetrativeness of different exist- 
 ences, whether of matter, or spirit, or somewhat partaking 
 of either, or of aught else, see the author's Beliques of the 
 Christ, p. 52, etc. 
 
 5. pp. 76 and 107. These quotations from Prof. Tayler 
 Lewis's admirable translation of Job, in Lange's Com- 
 mentary. 
 
 6. p. 80. The swing of the Poles of the Earth during 
 the 25,868 years of the last full Procession of the Equinox 
 brought the Southern Cross into view even of Great Britain, 
 in a comparatively recent ice age. Owing to the carbonic 
 acid in the air at a far distant era, the stars were invisible. 
 It was clarified by the vegetation absorbing carbon and 
 breathing out oxygen. 
 
 279 
 
28o NOTES 
 
 7. p. 98. Probably the temporary stars that surprise us 
 with their appearance, and then their increasing and de- 
 creasing luminousness, are cooled, dead worlds, sometimes 
 colliding, or sometimes dashing into realms of nebulae, or 
 star-dust; the tremendous compression evolving light. 
 
 8. p. 105. "The range of audible sounds comprises 
 eleven octaves, of musical sounds about seven ; the range of 
 visible light is less than one octave; the range of aesthetic 
 color may be less as it is with sound; the limits of music 
 and sound together lie between forty and 4,000 vibrations 
 in a second, while the limits of visible light lie between 
 four hundred and sixty million millions, and eighty mil- 
 lion millions in a second."— Wm. Schooling on "Color- 
 Music," in "X/X Century" reprinted in Litt. Living 
 Age, Aug. 10, 1895. He also suggests that on the fact 
 that some sensitive natures are affected by color as others 
 by music, a new instrument might be invented, which, 
 with a keyboard of notes to play the shades of color, 
 and with a pedal to alter the intensity of light, a bit of color- 
 music may be produced. Meanwhile, the Rev. Alan S. 
 Hawkesworth, ( Westminster Review, Oct. 1902, p. 387), writes 
 that "the telephone turns sounds into magnetic and electric 
 vibrations; and these again into waves of sounds; the 
 electric light converts vibrations into light and heat; the 
 thermo-pile joined with a telephone will transmit heat into 
 sound; while silenium cells will perform the same operation 
 with light; it is, then, but a simple statement of fact that, 
 given the proper apparatus, one can easily hear light and 
 heat, and see sound." He is arguing against the identity 
 of what we call matter (apparent) with the essential meta- 
 physical matter — of atoms and spaces. 
 
 9. p. 121. I am indebted to the late Dr. A. J. Ingersoll, 
 of Corning, N. Y., ("/n Health,'' and his ''Sabbath Talks,'') 
 a man of deep original spiritual thinking, needing much 
 qualifying, for the pervading sentiment of this hymn, Self- 
 forgiveness, a loving forgiveness toward our own faultinesses 
 
NOTES 281 
 
 as well as others', not a self -excusing, nor a self-accusing con- 
 science, but a grateful leaving of all our sins and selves vrith 
 Christ for His redeeming; also for the reverencing of the 
 entire physical life, and fundamentally that life which is 
 divinely ordained for the human family on earth, which is 
 by unwise angers diseased into abnormal fires and passions. 
 
 10. p. 130. A beautiful quotation from an ancient 
 Japanese poet, given me by that great missionary statesman 
 of Japan, Guido Fridoline Verbeck, D. D. 
 
 11. p. 132. Almost a word for word phrasing from ad- 
 dress by B. B. Nagardias, of India, at World's Religious 
 Conference, at Chicago World's Fair, 1893. 
 
 12. p. 134. Popularly called for some time "Volt,'' more 
 accurately now "Ampere," each after an inventor. 
 
 13. p, 137. The author has been delighted to see, since 
 this portion was written, this figure of God's keyboard of the 
 skies, by Dr. Sandy, in The Oracles of God, p. 160. 
 
 14. p. 176. The author regrets he has forgotten to what 
 recent author he is indebted for this admirable phrasing. 
 
 15. p. 190. Battles of Manila Bay, May 1, and 
 Santiago, July 3, 1898. 
 
 16. p. 200. Few need be informed how the Jewish Sab- 
 bath evolved into the Christian Sunday. 
 
 17. p. 202. "Perpetual service their perpetual rest." — 
 Lange's Revelation. 
 
 18. p. 208. Hymn written by author for dedication of 
 the Jay Gould Memorial Church, (Reformed Church in 
 America), Roxbury, N. Y., Oct. 13, 1894. (Maybe used 
 for Church Dedications, or Sabbath Processional.) 
 
 19. p. 213. For erection of ancient Cathedral of Chartres, 
 see extracts from two letters of A. D. 1145, printed in Bishop's 
 Pictorial Architecture of France, p. 104. 
 
282 NOTES 
 
 20. p. 226. The two seas that met at Chicago, at World's 
 Fair, four centuries after discovery of America, are the great 
 lake of water and the great sea of humanity assembled 
 there. In the song, reference toward its close is made to the 
 strange burning of almost all its Centennial buildings when 
 the Fair was over. 
 
 21. pp. 231 and 264. The volcanic eruption in Java, a few 
 years ago, affected even our American sunsets with a strikingly 
 deeper brilliancy; similar atmospheric and possibly climatic 
 effects followed Pelee's disastrous eruption in 1902. On the 
 importance of Dust, see A. R. Wallace's The Wonderful Cen- 
 tury, chapter nine. Krakatoa's (Java) dust was apparent 
 three years afterward; and some of it went round the earth 
 three times; p. 75. Dust gives blue to the sky, elsewise 
 colorless and black, makes a track of sunbeam through the 
 pure black air, in the atmosphere from ten to twelve miles 
 high, affecting its colors. No clouds, no gentle rains, nor 
 mists, etc., without dust on which the atoms of moisture 
 condense, thus preventing otherwise constant waterspouts 
 and torrents. See also p. 82 of this poem. 
 
 22. p. 241. Gautama Boodha lived eighty-one years, 
 preaching sixty. Confucius lived seventy-three years, 
 preaching fifty-three. Mohammed lived sixty-one years, 
 giving himself to special religious meditations at twenty- 
 four, preaching publicly at thirty-eight, i. e., preaching — and 
 fighting twenty-three years. Jesus, the blessed Son of God, 
 had just three years in which to preach and plant His King- 
 dom of love! 
 
 23. p. 264. " Night is defined by darkness, death by 
 dust." — Bailey's Festus. 
 
 24. p. 266. See Louis Blanc's Orammar oj Painting and 
 Engraving, p. 112 seq. 
 
 25. p. 269. "Impatient of isthmuses. "—Eev. Dr. R. 
 S. Storrs' Lectures on Christian Beligion. 
 
NOTES 283 
 
 26. p. 269. Isaiah 66 : 8, seq. 
 
 27. p. 273. " Multitudinoua plural. "—Rev. Dr. George 
 W. Bethune, in sermon on Resurrection. 
 
 28. p. 273. "Plural of excellence. "—The Hebrews 
 emphasized a noun by pluralizing it; e. g., Elohim, the 
 plural of Eloah converts "gods " into "God."