I CANNOT look above and see Yon high-piled, pillowy mass Of evening clouds, so swimmingly In gold and purple pass, And think not, Lord, how thou wast seen On Israel's desert way, Before them, in thy shadowy screen, Pavilioned all the day! Or, of those robes of gorgeous hue Which the Redeemer wore, When, ravished from his followers' view, Aloft his flight he bore; When lifted, as on mighty wing, He curtained his ascent, And, wrapt in clouds, went triumphing Above the firmament. It is a trail of that same pall Of many-colored dyes, That high above, o'ermantling all, Hangs midway down the skies, -- Or borders of those sweeping folds Which shall be all unfurled About the Saviour, when he holds His judgment on the world? For in like manner as he went, -- My soul, hast thou forgot? -- Shall be his terrible descent, When man expecteth not! Strength, Son of man, against that hour, Be to our spirits given, When thou shalt come again with power, Upon the clouds of heaven! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A VALEDICTION: OF MY NAME IN THE WINDOW by JOHN DONNE VERSES ON SEEING THE SPEAKER ASLEEP IN HIS CHAIR by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED THE CLOSING SCENE by THOMAS BUCHANAN READ THE RUINS OF CORINTH by ANTIPATER OF SIDON SONNETS OF MANHOOD: SONNET 24. BALCOMBE FOREST by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) TRAVELLING GIPSIES by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE LINES; TO ONE WHO WISHED TO READ A POEM I HAD WRITTEN by ANNE CHARLOTTE LYNCH BOTTA SKETCH OF AN OCCURRENCE ON BOARD A BRIG by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |