Part 3
It is because Then thou didst fear, that now thou dost not fear. Thou hast forestalled the agony, and so 380 For thee the bitterness of death is past. Also, because already in thy soul The judgment is begun. That day of doom, One and the same for the collected world-- That solemn consummation for all flesh, Is, in the case of each, anticipate Upon his death; and, as the last great day In the particular judgment is rehearsed, So now too, ere thou comest to the Throne, A presage falls upon thee, as a ray 390 Straight from the Judge, expressive of thy lot. That calm and joy uprising in thy soul Is first-fruit to thee of thy recompense, And heaven begun.
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SOUL
But hark! upon my sense Comes a fierce hubbub, which would make me fear, Could I be frighted.
ANGEL
We are now arrived Close on the judgment court; that sullen howl Is from the demons who assemble there. 400 It is the middle region, where of old Satan appeared among the sons of God, To cast his jibes and scoffs at holy Job. So now his legions throng the vestibule, Hungry and wild, to claim their property, And gather souls for hell. Hist to their cry.
SOUL
How sour and how uncouth a dissonance!
DEMONS
Low-born clods[27] Of brute earth, They aspire 410 To become gods, By a new birth, And an extra grace, And a score of merits. As if aught Could stand in place Of the high thought, And the glance of fire Of the great spirits, The powers blest, 420 The lords by right, The primal owners, Of the proud dwelling And realm of light,-- Dispossessed, Aside thrust, Chucked down, By the sheer might Of a despot's will, Of a tyrant's frown. 430 Who after expelling Their hosts, gave, Triumphant still, And still unjust, Each forfeit crown To psalm-droners, And canting groaners, To every slave, And pious cheat, And crawling knave, 440 Who licked the dust Under his feet.
ANGEL
It is the restless panting of their being; Like beasts of prey, who, caged within their bars, In a deep hideous purring have their life, And an incessant pacing to and fro.
DEMONS
The mind bold And independent, The purpose free, So we are told, 450 Must not think To have the ascendant. What's a saint? One whose breath Doth the air taint Before his death; A bundle of bones, Which fools adore, Ha! ha! When life is o'er, 460 Which rattle and stink, E'en in the flesh. We cry his pardon! No flesh hath he; Ha! ha! For it hath died, 'Tis crucified Day by day, Afresh, afresh, Ha! ha! 470 That holy clay, Ha! ha! This gains guerdon, So priestlings prate, Ha! ha! Before the Judge, And pleads and atones For spite and grudge, And bigot mood, And envy and hate, 480 And greed of blood.
SOUL
How impotent they are! and yet on earth They have repute for wondrous power and skill; And books describe, how that the very face Of the Evil One, if seen, would have a force Even to freeze the blood, and choke the life Of him who saw it.
ANGEL
In thy trial-state Thou hadst a traitor nestling close at home, Connatural, who with the powers of hell 490 Was leagued, and of thy senses kept the keys, And to that deadliest foe unlocked thy heart. And therefore is it, in respect to man, Those fallen ones show so majestical. But, when some child of grace, angel or saint, Pure and upright in his integrity Of nature, meets the demons on their raid, They scud away as cowards from the fight. Nay, oft hath holy hermit in his cell, Not yet disburdened of mortality, 500 Mocked at their threats and warlike overtures; Or, dying, when they swarmed, like flies, around, Defied them, and departed to his Judge.
DEMONS
Virtue and vice, A knave's pretence. 'Tis all the same; Ha! ha! Dread of hell-fire, Of the venomous flame, A coward's plea. 510 Give him his price, Saint though he be, Ha! ha! From shrewd good sense He'll slave for hire; Ha! ha! And does but aspire To the heaven above With sordid aim, And not from love. 520 Ha! ha!
SOUL
I see not those false spirits; shall I see My dearest Master, when I reach His throne; Or hear, at least, His awful judgment-word With personal intonation, as I now Hear thee, not see thee, Angel? Hitherto All has been darkness since I left the earth; Shall I remain thus sight bereft all through My penance time? If so, how comes it then That I have hearing still, and taste, and touch, 530 Yet not a glimmer of that princely sense Which binds ideas in one, and makes them live?
ANGEL
Nor touch, nor taste, nor hearing hast thou now; Thou livest in a world of signs and types, The presentations of most holy truths, Living and strong, which now encompass thee. A disembodied soul, thou hast by right No converse with aught else beside thyself; But, lest so stern a solitude should load And break thy being, in mercy are vouchsafed 540 Some lower measures of perception, Which seem to thee, as though through channels brought, Through ear, or nerves, or palate, which are gone. And thou art wrapped and swathed around in dreams, Dreams that are true, yet enigmatical; For the belongings of thy present state, Save through such symbols, come not home to thee. And thus thou tell'st of space, and time, and size, Of fragrant, solid, bitter, musical, Of fire, and of refreshment after fire; 550 As (let me use similitude of earth, To aid thee in the knowledge thou dost ask)-- As ice which blisters may be said to burn. Nor hast thou now extension,[28] with its parts Correlative,--long habit cozens thee,-- Nor power to move thyself, nor limbs to move. Hast thou not heard of those, who, after loss Of hand or foot, still cried that they had pains In hand or foot, as though they had it still? So is it now with thee, who hast not lost 560 Thy hand or foot, but all which made up man; So will it be, until the joyous day Of resurrection, when thou wilt regain All thou hast lost, new-made and glorified. How, even now, the consummated Saints See God in heaven, I may not explicate. Meanwhile let it suffice thee to possess Such means of converse as are granted thee, Though, till that Beatific Vision thou art blind; For e'en thy purgatory, which comes like fire, 570 Is fire without its light.
SOUL
His will be done! I am not worthy e'er to see again The face of day; far less His countenance Who is the very sun. Nathless, in life, When I looked forward to my purgatory, It ever was my solace to believe, That, ere I plunged amid th' avenging flame, I had one sight of Him to strengthen me.
ANGEL
Nor rash nor vain is that presentiment; 580 Yes,--for one moment thou shalt see thy Lord. Thus will it be: what time thou art arraigned Before the dread tribunal, and thy lot Is cast for ever, should it be to sit On His right hand among His pure elect, Then sight, or that which to the soul is sight, As by a lightning-flash, will come to thee, And thou shalt see, amid the dark profound, Whom thy soul loveth, and would fain approach,-- One moment; but thou knowest not, my child, 590 What thou dost ask: that sight of the Most Fair Will gladden thee, but it will pierce thee too.
SOUL
Thou speakest darkly, Angel! and an awe Falls on me, and a fear lest I be rash.
ANGEL
There was a mortal, who is now above In the mid glory: he, when near to die, Was given communion with the Crucified,-- Such, that the Master's very wounds were stamped Upon his flesh;[29] and, from the agony 599 Which thrilled through body and soul in that embrace Learn that the flame of the Everlasting Love Doth burn ere it transform....
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... Hark to those sounds! They come of tender beings angelical, Least and most childlike of the sons of God.
FIRST CHOIR OF ANGELICALS
Praise to the Holiest in the height,[30] And in the depth be praise: In all His words most wonderful; Most sure in all His ways!
To us His elder race He gave 610 To battle and to win, Without the chastisement of pain, Without the soil of sin.
The younger son He willed to be A marvel in his birth: Spirit and flesh his parents were; His home was heaven and earth.
The Eternal blessed His child, and armed, And sent him hence afar, To serve as champion in the field 620 Of elemental war.
To be His Viceroy in the world Of matter, and of sense; Upon the frontier, towards the foe, A resolute defence.
ANGEL
We now have passed the gate, and are within The House of Judgment; and whereas on earth Temples and palaces are formed of parts Costly and rare, but all material, So in the world of spirits nought is found, 630 To mould withal and form into a whole, But what is immaterial; and thus The smallest portions of this edifice, Cornice, or frieze, or balustrade, or stair, The very pavement is made up of life-- Of holy, blessed, and immortal beings, Who hymn their Maker's praise continually.
SECOND CHOIR OF ANGELICALS
Praise to the Holiest in the height, And in the depth be praise: In all His words most wonderful; 640 Most sure in all His ways!
Woe to thee, man! for he was found A recreant in the fight; And lost his heritage of heaven, And fellowship with light.
Above him now the angry sky, Around the tempest's din; Who once had angels for his friends, Had but the brutes for kin.
O man! a savage kindred they; 650 To flee that monster brood He scaled the seaside cave, and clomb The giants of the wood.
With now a fear, and now a hope, With aids which chance supplied, From youth to eld, from sire to son, He lived, and toiled, and died.
He dreed[31] his penance age by age; And step by step began Slowly to doff his savage garb, 660 And be again a man.
And quickened by the Almighty's breath, And chastened by His rod, And taught by Angel-visitings, At length he sought his God:
And learned to call upon His name, And in His faith create A household and a fatherland, A city and a state.
Glory to Him who from the mire, 670 In patient length of days, Elaborated into life A people to His praise!
SOUL
The sound is like the rushing of the wind-- The Summer wind among the lofty pines; Swelling and dying, echoing round about, Now here, now distant, wild and beautiful; While, scattered from the branches it has stirred, Descend ecstatic odours.
THIRD CHOIR OF ANGELICALS
Praise to the Holiest in the height, 680 And in the depth be praise: In all His words most wonderful; Most sure in all His ways!
The Angels, as beseemingly To spirit-kind was given, At once were tried and perfected, And took their seats in heaven.
For them no twilight or eclipse; No growth and no decay: 'Twas hopeless, all-ingulfing night, 690 Or beatific day.
But to the younger race there rose A hope upon its fall; And slowly, surely, gracefully, The morning dawned on all.
And ages, opening out, divide The precious and the base, And from the hard and sullen mass, Mature the heirs of grace.
O man! albeit the quickening ray, 700 Lit from his second birth, Makes him at length what once he was, And heaven grows out of earth;
Yet still between that earth and heaven-- His journey and his goal-- A double agony awaits His body and his soul.
A double debt he has to pay-- The forfeit of his sins, The chill of death is past, and now 710 The penance-fire begins.
Glory to Him, who evermore By truth and justice reigns; Who tears the soul from out its case, And burns away its stains!
ANGEL
They sing of thy approaching agony, Which thou so eagerly didst question of: It is the face of the Incarnate God Shall smite thee with that keen and subtle pain; And yet the memory which it leaves will be 720 A sovereign febrifuge to heal the wound; And yet withal it will the wound provoke, And aggravate and widen it the more.
SOUL
Thou speakest mysteries; still methinks I know To disengage the tangle of thy words: Yet rather would I hear thy angel voice, Than for myself be thy interpreter.
ANGEL
When then--if such thy lot--thou seest thy Judge, The sight of Him will kindle in thy heart, All tender, gracious, reverential thoughts. 730 Thou wilt be sick with love, and yearn for Him, And feel as though thou couldst but pity Him, That one so sweet should e'er have placed Himself At disadvantage such, as to be used So vilely by a being so vile as thee. There is a pleading in His pensive eyes Will pierce thee to the quick, and trouble thee. And thou wilt hate and loathe thyself; for, though Now sinless, thou wilt feel that thou hast sinned, As never thou didst feel; and wilt desire 740 To slink away, and hide thee from His sight And yet wilt have a longing aye to dwell Within the beauty of His countenance. And these two pains, so counter and so keen,-- The longing for Him, when thou seest Him not; The shame of self at thought of seeing Him,-- Will be thy veriest, sharpest purgatory.
SOUL
My soul is in my hand: I have no fear,-- In His dear might prepared for weal or woe. But hark! a grand mysterious harmony: 750 It floods me, like the deep and solemn sound Of many waters.
ANGEL
We have gained the stairs Which rise towards the Presence-chamber; there A band of mighty Angels keep the way On either side, and hymn the Incarnate God.
ANGELS OF THE SACRED STAIR
Father, whose goodness none can know, but they Who see Thee face to face, By man hath come the infinite display Of Thy victorious grace; 760 But fallen man--the creature of a day-- Skills not that love to trace. It needs, to tell the triumph Thou hast wrought, An Angel's deathless fire, an Angel's reach of thought.
It needs that very Angel, who with awe, Amid the garden shade, The great Creator in His sickness saw, Soothed by a creature's aid, And agonised, as victim of the Law Which He Himself had made; 770 For who can praise Him in His depth and height, But he who saw Him reel amid that solitary fight?
SOUL
Hark! for the lintels of the presence-gate Are vibrating and echoing back the strain.
FOURTH CHOIR OF ANGELICALS
Praise to the Holiest in the height, And in the depth be praise: In all His words most wonderful; Most sure in all His ways!
The foe blasphemed the Holy Lord, As if He reckoned ill, 780 In that He placed His puppet man The frontier place to fill.
For even in his best estate, With amplest gifts endued, A sorry sentinel was he, A being of flesh and blood.
As though a thing, who for his help Must needs possess a wife, Could cope with those proud rebel hosts, Who had angelic life. 790
And when, by blandishment of Eve, That earth-born Adam fell, He shrieked in triumph, and he cried, "A sorry sentinel;
The Maker by His word is bound, Escape or cure is none; He must abandon to his doom, And slay His darling son."
ANGEL
And now the threshold, as we traverse it, Utters aloud its glad responsive chant. 800
FIFTH CHOIR OF ANGELICALS
Praise to the Holiest in the height, And in the depth be praise: In all His words most wonderful; Most sure in all His ways!
O loving wisdom of our God! When all was sin and shame, A second Adam to the fight And to the rescue came.
O wisest love! that flesh and blood Which did in Adam fail, 810 Should strive afresh against the foe, Should strive and should prevail;
And that a higher gift than grace Should flesh and blood refine, God's Presence and His very Self, And Essence all divine.
O generous love! that He who smote In man for man the foe, The double agony in man For man should undergo; 820
And in the garden secretly, And on the cross on high, Should teach His brethren and inspire To suffer and to die.
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ANGEL
Thy judgment now is near, for we are come Into the veiled presence of our God.
SOUL
I hear the voices that I left on earth.
ANGEL
It is the voice of friends around thy bed, Who say the "Subvenite" with the priest. Hither the echoes come; before the Throne 830 Stands the great Angel of the Agony, The same who strengthened Him, what time He knelt Lone in the garden shade, bedewed with blood. That Angel best can plead with Him for all Tormented souls, the dying and the dead.
ANGEL OF THE AGONY[32]
Jesu! by that shuddering dread which fell on Thee; Jesu! by that cold dismay which sickened Thee; Jesu! by that pang of heart which thrilled in Thee; Jesu! by that mount of sins which crippled Thee; Jesu! by that sense of guilt which stifled Thee; 840 Jesu! by that innocence which girdled Thee; Jesu! by that sanctity which reigned in Thee; Jesu! by that Godhead which was one with Thee; Jesu! spare these souls which are so dear to Thee, Who in prison, calm and patient, wait for Thee; Hasten, Lord, their hour, and bid them come to Thee, To that glorious Home, where they shall ever gaze on Thee.
SOUL
I go before my Judge. Ah!...
ANGEL
... Praise to His Name! The eager spirit has darted from my hold, 850 And, with the intemperate energy of love, Flies to the dear feet of Emmanuel; But, ere it reach them, the keen sanctity, Which with its effluence, like a glory, clothes And circles round the Crucified, has seized, And scorched, and shrivelled it; and now it lies Passive and still before the awful Throne. O happy, suffering soul! for it is safe, Consumed, yet quickened, by the glance of God.
SOUL
Take me away, and in the lowest deep[33] 860 There let me be, And there in hope the lone night-watches keep, Told out for me. There, motionless and happy in my pain, Lone, not forlorn,-- There will I sing my sad perpetual strain, Until the morn. There will I sing, and soothe my stricken breast, Which ne'er can cease To throb, and pine, and languish, till possest 870 Of its Sole Peace. There will I sing my absent Lord and Love:-- Take me away, That sooner I may rise, and go above, And see Him in the truth of everlasting day.
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ANGEL
Now let the golden prison ope its gates, Making sweet music, as each fold revolves Upon its ready hinge. And ye great powers, Angels of Purgatory, receive from me My charge, a precious soul, until the day, 880 When, from all bond and forfeiture released, I shall reclaim it for the courts of light.
SOULS IN PURGATORY[34]
1. Lord, Thou hast been our refuge: in every generation;
2. Before the hills were born, and the world was: from age to age Thou art God.
3. Bring us not, Lord, very low: for Thou hast said, Come back again, ye sons of Adam.
4. A thousand years before Thine eyes are but as yesterday: and as a watch of the night which is come and gone.
5. The grass springs up in the morning: at evening-tide it shrivels up and dies.
6. So we fail in Thine anger: and in Thy wrath we are troubled.
7. Thou hast set our sins in Thy sight: and our round of days in the light of Thy countenance.
8. Come back, O Lord! how long: and be entreated for Thy servants. 890
9. In Thy morning we shall be filled with Thy mercy: we shall rejoice and be in pleasure all our days.
10. We shall be glad according to the days of our humiliation: and the years in which we have seen evil.
11. Look, O Lord, upon Thy servants and on Thy work: and direct their children.
12. And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us: and the work of our hands, establish Thou it.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.
ANGEL
Softly and gently, dearly-ransomed soul,[35]
In my most loving arms I now enfold thee, And, o'er the penal waters, as they roll, I poise thee, and I lower thee, and hold thee. 900
And carefully I dip thee in the lake,[36] And thou, without a sob or a resistance, Dost through the flood thy rapid passage take, Sinking deep, deeper into the dim distance. Angels, to whom the willing task is given, Shall tend, and nurse, and lull thee, as thou liest; And Masses on the earth, and prayers in heaven, Shall aid thee at the Throne of the Most Highest.
Farewell, but not for ever! brother dear, Be brave and patient on thy bed of sorrow; 910 Swiftly shall pass thy night of trial here, And I will come and wake thee on the morrow.
[11] As suggested in the Introduction, the musical character of the verse of "The Dream of Gerontius" is brought out more and more by careful study of the changes of the meaning of the poem and their expression. "The Dream" is a series of lyrics,--each lyric voicing its own feeling and sensitively tuned to that feeling. According to the scansion most in use in English, the first supplicating lyric may be classed as in pentameter iambic. Gerontius is yet in the body, and the rime, used solemnly, marks a difference--which has a delicate symbolism--between his utterances in the body and his utterances when his soul has left the body. What we call blank verse is used by the Spirit--rime disappears, but the rhythm remains the same. Using verse-notation, we find five accented notes in each line, if we consider the lines at all. There are two quarter-notes in each bar, which may be written as
[Illustration]
[12] (p. 25.) Gerontius dreams that he is dying. He has not strength to pray. He hears the persons near his bed praying for him, in the language prescribed by the Church, "The Litany for the Dying." The three opening invocations are in Greek, "Kyrie Eleison" ("Lord, have mercy"), "Christe Eleison" ("Christ, have mercy"), "Kyrie Eleison" ("Lord, have mercy"). The next invocation in the Litany is "Sancta Maria, Ora pro eo," which Cardinal Newman translates into English. With the exception of the first three and the last two invocations, the Litany is in Latin. The Litany is too long for the purpose of the poem, and the author has translated into English some of the invocations that would naturally strike the "fainting soul." "Be merciful" ("Propitius esto"), the assistants continue, still using parts of the Litany as versified by Cardinal Newman.
[13] "_Kyrie EleÔson_," etc. The poet has retained the sound-form used in the Prayer-books, and he shows his musical taste by not changing it.
[14] "_Rouse thee_," etc. Gerontius concentrates all his vitality. The effect is of nervous energy. The time is quickened and alternately slowed.