Upon the tablets that, of old, By CHAM were from the deluge saved, All written over with sublime And saddening legends of th' unbless'd, But glorious Spirits of that time, And this young Angel's 'mong the rest. THIRD ANGEL'S STORY. AMONG the Spirits, of pure flame, That round th' Almighty Throne abideCircles of light, that from the same Eternal centre sweeping wide, Carry its beams on every side Till the far-circling radiance be First and immediate near the Throne, As if peculiarly God's own, The Seraphs stand-this burning sign Even those to high-brow'd Cherubs given, The Seraphim are the Spirits of Divine Love. See Note, 'Mong these was ZARAPH once-and none E'er felt affection's holy fire, Or yearn'd towards th' Eternal One, The very Often, when from th' Almighty brow And all the seraph ranks would bow And rather lose, in that one gaze, First touch'd the threshold of the skies, Oh then how clearly did the voice Such love as only could belong Could, even from angels, bring such song! Alas, that it should e'er have been The same in Heaven as it is here, But it hath pain and peril near- That what we take for virtue's thrill Of the heart's balance into ill- So holy, but the serpent, Sin, Beneath his altar may glide in! So was it with that Angel-such The charm that sloped his fall along From good to ill, from loving much, Too easy lapse, to loving wrong. Even so that am'rous Spirit, bound Down to earth's beaming eyes descended, Till love for the Creator soon In passion for the creature ended! 'Twas first at twilight, on the shore Of the smooth sea, he heard the lute And voice of her he loved steal o'er The silver waters that lay mute, As loth, by even a breath, to stay The pilgrimage of that sweet lay; Whose echoes still went on and on, Till lost among the light that shone Far off beyond the ocean's brim There, where the rich cascade of day Into Elysium rollid away! Attendant Mercy, that beside Ready, with her white hand, to guide |