Later Poems Part 24

Whoso would mark and reach The height of man's election, Must still achieve and teach The triplicate perfection.

For since the world was made, One thing was needed ever, To keep man undismayed Through failure and endeavor--

A faultless trinity Of body, mind, and spirit, And each with its own three Strong angels to be near it;

Strength to arise and go Wherever dawn is breaking, Poise like the tides that flow, Instinct for beauty-making;

Imagination bold To cross the mystic border, Reason to seek and hold, Judgment for law and order;

Joy that makes all things well, Faith that is all-availing Each terror to dispel, And Love, ah, Love unfailing.

These are the flaming Nine Who walk the world unsleeping, Sent forth by the Divine With manhood in their keeping.

These are the seraphs strong His mighty soul had need of, When He would right the wrong And sorrow He took heed of.

And that, I think, is why The Wise Men knelt before Him, And put their kingdoms by To serve Him and adore Him;

So that our Lord, unknown, Should not be unattended, When He was here alone And poor and unbefriended;

That still He might have three (Rather than five or seven) To stand in their degree, Like archangels in Heaven.

The Sending of the Magi

In a far Eastern country It happened long of yore, Where a lone and level sunrise Flushes the desert floor, That three kings sat together And a spearman kept the door.

Caspar, whose wealth was counted By city and caravan; With Melchior, the seer Who read the starry plan; And Balthasar, the blameless, Who loved his fellow man.

There while they talked, a sudden Strange rus.h.i.+ng sound arose, And as with startled faces They thought upon their foes, Three figures stood before them In imperial repose.

One in flame-gold and one in blue And one in scarlet clear, With the almighty portent Of sunrise they drew near!

And the kings made obeisance With hand on breast, in fear.

"Arise," said they, "we bring you Good tidings of great peace!

To-day a power is wakened Whose working must increase, Till fear and greed and malice And violence shall cease."

The messengers were Michael, By whom all things are wrought To shape and hue; and Gabriel Who is the lord of thought; And Rafael without whose love All toil must come to nought.

Then Rafael said to Balthasar, "In a country west from here A lord is born in lowliness, In love without a peer.

Take grievances and gifts to him And prove his kings.h.i.+p clear!

"By this sign ye shall know him; Within his mother's arm Among the sweet-breathed cattle He slumbers without harm, While wicked hearts are troubled And tyrants take alarm."

And Gabriel said to Melchior, "My comrade, I will send My star to go before you, That ye may comprehend Where leads your mystic learning In a humaner trend."

And Michael said to Gaspar, "Thou royal builder, go With tribute of thy riches!

Though time shall overthrow Thy kingdom, no undoing His gentle might shall know."

Then while the kings' hearts greatened And all the chamber shone, As when the hills at sundown Take a new glory on And the air thrills with purple, Their visitors were gone.

Then straightway up rose Gaspar, Melchior and Balthasar, And pa.s.sed out through the murmur Of palace and bazar, To make without misgiving The journey of the Star.

The Angels of Man

The word of the Lord of the outer worlds Went forth on the deeps of s.p.a.ce, That Michael, Gabriel, Rafael, Should stand before his face, The seraphs of his threefold will, Each in his ordered place.

Brave Michael, the right hand of G.o.d, Strong Gabriel, his voice, Fair Rafael, his holy breath That makes the world rejoice,-- Archangels of omnipotence, Of knowledge, and of choice;

Michael, angel of loveliness In all things that survive, And Gabriel, whose part it is To ponder and contrive, And Rafael, who puts the heart In every thing alive.

Came Rafael, the enraptured soul, Stainless as wind or fire, The urge within the flux of things, The life that must aspire, With whom is the beginning, The worth, and the desire;

And Gabriel, the all-seeing mind, Bringer of truth and light, Who lays the courses of the stars In their stupendous flight, And calls the migrant flocks of spring Across the purple night;

And Michael, the artificer Of beauty, shape, and hue, Lord of the forges of the sun, The crucible of the dew, And driver of the plowing rain When the flowers are born anew.

Then said the Lord: "Ye shall account For the ministry ye hold, Since ye have been my sons to keep My purpose from of old.

How fare the realms within your sway To perfections still untold?"

Answered each as he had the word.

And a great silence fell On all the listening hosts of heaven To hear their captains tell,-- With the breath of the wind, the call of a bird.

And the cry of a mighty bell.

Then the Lord said: "The time is ripe For finis.h.i.+ng my plan, And the accomplishment of that For which all time began.

Therefore on you is laid the task Of the fas.h.i.+oning of man;

"In your own likeness shall he be, To triumph in the end.

I only give him Michael's strength To guard him and defend, With Gabriel to be his guide, And Rafael his friend.

"Ye shall go forth upon the earth, And make there Paradise, And be the angels of that place To make men glad and wise, With loving-kindness in their hearts, And knowledge in their eyes.

"And ye shall be man's counsellors That neither rest nor sleep, To cheer the lonely, lift the frail, And solace them that weep.

And ever on his wandering trail Your watch-fires ye shall keep;

"Till in the far years he shall find The country of his quest, The empire of the open truth, The vision of the best, Foreseen by every mother saint With her new-born on her breast."

At the Making of Man

_First all the host of Raphael In liveries of gold, Lifted the chorus on whose rhythm The spinning spheres are rolled,-- The Seraphs of the morning calm Whose hearts are never cold._