Page:Poems (IA poemsthomrich).pdf/67
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A JUDGMENT IN HEAVEN.[1]
Athwart the sod which is treading for God * the poet paced with his splendid eyes;
Paradise-verdure he stately passes * to win to the Father of Paradise,
Through the conscious and palpitant grasses * of intertangled relucent dyes.
Paradise-verdure he stately passes * to win to the Father of Paradise,
Through the conscious and palpitant grasses * of intertangled relucent dyes.
The angels a-play on its fields of Summer * (their wild wings rustled his guides' cymars)
Looked up from disport at the passing comer, * as they pelted each other with handfuls of stars;
And the warden-spirits with startled feet rose, * hand on sword, by their tethered cars.
Looked up from disport at the passing comer, * as they pelted each other with handfuls of stars;
And the warden-spirits with startled feet rose, * hand on sword, by their tethered cars.
With plumes night-tinctured englobed and cinctured, * of Saints, his guided steps held on
To where on the far crystalline pale * of that transtellar Heaven there shone
The immutable crocean dawn * effusing from the Father's Throne.
To where on the far crystalline pale * of that transtellar Heaven there shone
The immutable crocean dawn * effusing from the Father's Throne.
- ↑ Note—I have throughout this poem used an asterisk to indicate the caesura in the middle of the line, after the manner of the old Saxon section-point.