We analyze a Flower,.. and what find we? A fairy workshop and its implements..
But where the Worker? what, and who is he?
Here are the souls of plants, and seeds and scents,
The form of forms, and whatsoever is;
Earth, Air, Fire, Water;-they, and their contents.
Here is the Centre of all gravities;
Hence monstrous Ocean hath his ebb and flow,
And Air and Fire their elasticities;
And Earth, from the beginning, hath, alsō,
In all her changes, and with all her nations,
Circling the sun, rejoicing or in woe,
A loving Sister with the constellations,
Clasped with her arms the heavens, in mystic dance, For days and years and times and generations.
But though all Motions from this source advance,
Itself at rest immoveable remains,
Exempt from change, necessity, and chance.
Here in pure unity true Sabbath reigns,
Original-eternal-final proof,
Prime archetype of all our orb contains--
An intellectual Paradigme whereof
The World of Sense is but a Parable;
A Fable wrought in an intricate woof;
A Mystery—not without an Oracle,
But misinterpreted-neglected-scorned-
Shadowy of truth," and symbolizing well;
A Theatre,..how gorgeously adorned!
A Stage of scenes illusive and of men
Drest in disguises phantast and suborned—
Awhile the Actors play their part—agen,
The sovran and the slave are equal both,
Yet nothing changed but the appearance then.
And Life hath many circles, each the growth
From this mid point, and perfect more or less,
As near or farther from its fount it floweth;
And all Reality diminishes,
By distance from the centre whence it rays,
And Motion varies e'en to nothingness.--
Ye who by secret and untrodden ways,
Though none of death, led by the Spirit of Light,
Have followed to the land where light displays
Itself.. Light sovran and intensely bright,
Authentical and holy, yet wherein
Our Spirits looked with unconsumèd sight,
Though in death living, yet absolved from Sin
For His dear sake who died upon the Cross;..
Though venturous the voyage we begin,
Say soothly so, our toil is gain not loss,
Not void but fulness; that your kind may
Whate'er is not ideal is but dross.
This is the City John did once discern,
Descend from heaven apocalyptical,
Whereof "his thoughts do breathe, his words do burn."
Beautiful City! Mother of us all!
Vision of Peace! white Bride of Deity,
Whose Glory clothes thine apostolic wall!
Angels thy gates encompass lovingly,
Equal in all dimensions as beseems,
And like an Angel's thy capacity.
Death is not in thee, nor the fierce extremes
Of Pain or Sorrow, nor Anxiety
Here Evil comes not, neither evil dreams.
No Temple hast thou,..for the Lord Most High
Thy Temple is. No Sun thou hast, nor Moon,..
His Glory is thy Light eternally.
Lo-every Nation brings to thee a boon..
Thy Gates shall not be shut at all by day,
Nor Night be thine, Land of perpetual Noon..
The Kings of Earth to thee their homage pay..
But no defiled thing shall enter thee,
Loving a Lie, or tempting to betray.—
Holy who of thy Charter is born free,
Freely his thirst is at thy Fount allayed,
Water of Life, a River pure as he.
Amidst thy Street, on either bank displayed
The Tree of Life, whose very leaves are healing,
Shall yield its monthly fruit and never fade..
Happy all they who wait for thy revealing!
OH! for the weeping verse of Jeremy,
The Prophet of the Lord!-For Zion mourn,
A childless Widow in captivity!
Death in her palaces hath made sojourn,
For all Creation with her suffering God
Suffered. So Hades from his mystick bourn,
And Earth phantasmal from her gross abode,
With Visions of the Crucified ere long
Transpierced and buried, on the Air forth rode,
Above her Temples, uttering doleful Song
Unto the World of Spirits. There dwelt Fear,
Dwelt in the Land of Hope, the Elect among,
There Darkness dwelt in Light's eternal sphere,
And Hell and Satan of their prey miscounting
Over the Holy City, hovered near.
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