Collected Works (Vol. I)

200 THE TEMPLE OF THE HOLY GHOST Too light for fairy fingers to have woven, oo strong for mere archangels to have cloven With adamantine blades from the armoury Of the amazing forges of the sea: The folk that follow with undaunted mien The utmost beauty that their eyes have seen— O patient sufferers! yet your storm-scarred brows Burn with the star of majesty : your vows Have given you the wisdom and the power To weld eternities within one hour, To bind and braid the North wind’s serpent hair, And track the East wind to his mighty lair Even in the caverns of the womb of dawn ; To take the South wind and his fire with- drawn And clothe him with your kiss ; to seize the West In his gold palace where the sea-winds rest, And hurl him ravening on the breaking foam ; ‘To find the Spirit in his glimmering home And draw his secret from unwilling lips ; To master earthquake, and the dread eclipse ; To dominate the red volcanic rage ; To quench the whirlpool, conquering war to wage Against all gods not wholly made as ye, O patient, and O marvellous! I see, I see before me an archangel stand, Whose flaming scimitar, a triple brand, Quivers before him, whose vast eyebrows bend, A million comets: for his locks extend A million flashing terrors: on his breast He bears a mightier cuirass : for his vest All heaven blazes: for his brows a crown Roars into the abyss: his mighty frown Quells many an universe and many an age— Yea, many eternities ! His nostrils rage With fire and fury, and his feet are shod With all the splendours of the avenging God. I see him and I tremble! But my hand Still flings its gesture of supreme command Upwards; my voice still dares to tongue the word That hell and chaos and destruction heard And ruined, shrieking! yea, my strong voice rolls, That martyr-cry of many slaughtered souls, Utterly potent both to bless and ban— I, I command thee in the name of Man! He trembled then. And far in thunder rolled Through countless ages, through the infinite gold Beyond existence, grew that master-sound Into the rent and agonized profound, Till even the Highest heard me: and Hesaid, As one who speaks alone among men dead: ‘* Behold, he rules as I the abyss of flame. Forlo! heknoweth, and hath said, My Name!” THE EVOCATION. FRoM the abyss, the horrible lone world Of agony, more sharp than moonbeams strike The shaken glacier, my cry is hurled, As the avenger lightning. Swiftly whirled, It flings in circles closing serpent-like On the abominable devil-horde I summon to the mastery of the sword. In my white palace, where the flashing dawn Leaps from the girdling bastions, where the light Flames from the talisman as if a fawn Glode through the thickets, where the soul, withdrawn From every element, gleams through the night Into that darkness palpable, where They Lurk from the torment of the light of day. Swings the swift sword in paths of vivid blue ; Rings the sharp summons in the halls of fear ; Flames the great lamen?!; as a fiery dew Falls the keen chanted music ; fierce and true Beams the bright diamond of the crowning sphere. 1A plate bearing the Names of God appro- priate to the work in hand, with other symbols of power, worn by the exorciser upon his breast.