A Vision of Lost Souls

THE woman stood within
The Golden City’s pale,
And heard across the gulf
Her lover’s mournful wail
Among the lost, sound on
The white-winged evening gale.

Then to her loving ken
Was all the place grown dim,
And empty were the songs
Of gold-robed cherubim;
She hid her face, and wept
And cried for love of him.

Though yet the talk of those
Who trod the shining street
Ceased suddenly, and hushed
Was all their music sweet,
Till, gathering near, they stood
Or knelt down at her feet,

They hindered not her prayer,
But wondered and were dumb —
For there, until that day,
Had never sorrow come;
And though it was in heaven
Tears wet the eyes of some.

The lofty gates swung wide
Withouten sound or jar;
Seen from this earth, her flight
Shone like a falling star,
And soon the realms of death
Were near and heaven was far.

And then, beyond the void
That skirts the changeless spheres,
Amid the plains whereon
The cloud of doom appears,
She washed her lover’s hands
And feet with her warm tears.

“ Father,” the woman prayed,
“ Hear what my bosom saith!
Wilt thou not for love’s sake
Unloose the bonds of death?
Dear Lord, wilt thou not hear
The pleadings of my breath? “ Unworthy, let me bear
A message from thy grace
Unto my love, and each
That trembles in this place
Before thy wrath and his
Own soul’s upbraiding face! ”

“ Be comforted, dear love,” —
The man spoke, of the twain,—
“ Thy faith hath kindled mine,
Deem not thy pleadings vain;
In each heart still some seeds
Of love and hope remain.”

He held her close within
His loving, strong embrace,
And smoothed her shining hair,
And kissed her shining face;
And sweet as heaven that land
Was for a moment’s space,

Till, looking back where stood
The temples of God’s town,
He cried: “ In pity, let
Your battlements fall down
And hide a soul that wears
Thus palpably God’s frown!

“ And yet — mine eyes were blind
With mists of their desire,
And in my human veins
Were mingled blood and fire;
And paths ancestral trained
My footsteps for the mire!

“ Who saith God’s hand spans not
The compass of the spheres
Wherein his day ends not
As end man’s mortal years;
Or that Christ hath not need
Of sin and death and tears?

“ Shall not God’s hand bear up
Our weak hands in that day
In which love strives with death,
And death with love alway,
Until the faint grow strong,
And till the stronger slay?

“ For flesh and blood alone
Did Calvary lift high
Her penitential front
Unto the angry sky?
And wherefore shall not God
Work, though man’s body die?

“ Or wherefore rise his towers
So, yonder, in our sight,
Unless high thoughts from thence
May sweep down in their flight,
And some souls, lost as I,
Turn homeward to the light?

“ Against their lovers’ love
Their lives have sinned as mine;
Yet shall not love’s remorse
Around each heart entwine,
Until love’s peace therein
Dwell deathless and divine?

“ Shall, then, their feet and mine
Be less with courage shod,
Because our steps gain not
The heights we might have trod,
And endless loss divides
Our spent past from our God?

“ All lines of life and light
Slant upward to the sky;
So must some path arise
Where, slowly, thou and I
May climb, till God shall hear
The language of our cry.

“ And not our cry alone
Henceforth shall him beseech ;
For many still will learn
The way that our steps teach,
When on new lips and strange
Is fashioned our slow speech.

“ And, haply, may God’s Christ
Bend down from his high seat,
Or send his angels, who
Shall guide our wavering feet;
And cannot love’s self make
Each bitter thing seem sweet? ”

He stooped and kissed her hair
That glimmered golden red;
She leaned on him as when
On earth they two were wed;
And heaven was in her face,
And peace — no word she said.