Poems by Victor Hugo - HTML preview

ST. JOHN.

("Un jour, le morne esprit.")
     {Bk. VI. vii., Jersey, September, 1855.}

One day, the sombre soul, the Prophet most sublime
         At Patmos who aye dreamed,
     And tremblingly perused, without the vast of Time,
         Words that with hell-fire gleamed,

     Said to his eagle: "Bird, spread wings for loftiest flight—
         Needs must I see His Face!"
     The eagle soared. At length, far beyond day and night,
         Lo! the all-sacred Place!

     And John beheld the Way whereof no angel knows
         The name, nor there hath trod;
     And, lo! the Place fulfilled with shadow that aye glows
         Because of very God.

     NELSON R. TYERMAN.