There is the fount of Wisdom; thence it flows; There the First Good and the First Fair abide, Unseen by Angels, in profound repose.
Yet they in Heaven are manifested wide,
And from Eternity together dwelt,
Triune, blest Sisters, lovingly allied;
And by the Minds of Power on Earth are felt,
And recognized in Sun and Moon and Stars,
Mountain and vale, and Ocean's monstrous belt.
Thou say'st" Let there be Light!" And Light declares
His being; and glad Wisdom from on high
Descends, down-wafted with celestial airs,
And o'er the dædal Orb, with extacy,
Of Beauty, her twin-sister, casts the zone,
Full of attractions, love and harmony,
To make the dwelling-place of Man a throne,
A palace of the Soul, a glorious shrine;
But for the Sons of Nature built alone,
Who taught by Wisdom, make all things divine;
Charmed by the symbol and the semblance here
Of that consummate Beauty, who is thine,
That primal Pulchritude, that perfect Fair,
Who in high Heaven delights thee, Mind Supreme! They bask in her bright presence every-where.
Within the walks of Eden, by the stream
Of living waters, and within the bower
Of love in Paradise, Man saw the gleam
Of glory in the grass and in the flower,
The azure Heaven, and Woman's heavenly eye,
And fused the day into a happy hour.
Sad from that temple of felicity,
Sad was thy parting, slow and wandering,
Alien and out-cast Man, new-doomed to die!
Sadder than aught since known of sorrowing
Saddest on earth; pomp for dead Monarch hoary,
Sad pomp funereal for a father-king.
But sadder far than all renowned in story,
Messiah's going-forth in nakedness
From the bright palace of paternal glory.
Then sorrow was in Heaven. Bright essences
Angelic burning in their sighs, and spirits
Of fire dissolved in liquid tears, by stress
Of wonder, and the pity it inherits,
Their mould seraphic melted into dew,
At the Atonement meant for Man's demerits.
For Man he from the Courts of Heaven withdrew,
Emptied of deity, become a child;
But, from the humiliation of that view,
Celestial hearts a sudden joy beguiled,
Transcending what they then beheld, and bent
On the far end which all things reconciled.
Instead of wailing and a loud lament,
They clothed their joy with song and harmony,
Good-will to Man, by great Messiah sent.
Over thy Mausoleum thus do we
Hover in grave delight and melancholy,
Oh Son of Man! in pious sympathy-
Pensive, yet not unhappy. Parting slowly
We linger here; but Faith, serene and pure,
Looks unto Thee, Eternal and most Holy!
Thy Holy One corruption to endure
Thou wilt not suffer, nor his Soul in Hell
To perish, but wilt lead him thence,..secure.
Sleep sweetly in thy unprofanèd cell,
Oh, Son of Man! and hallowed be thy slumbers,
And calm..for wisely thou hast done, and well!
Such was the Song of the Angelic Numbers;
The Hierarchs of Heaven, far in the sky,
And they who though on Earth, no Earth incumbers,
And they who have the heroick custody
Of Hell and Chaos; with according chime,
Each in his scale of solemn harmony;
Fit chorus for a theme so sacred and sublime.
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