The Ascension
Mary Magdalene telleth to the family at Bethany the Story of the Ascension
Mary Magdalene telleth to the family at Bethany the Story of the Ascension
Mary Magdalene telleth to the family at Bethany the Story of the Ascension
In the gray dawn they left Jerusalem,And I rose up to follow after them.He led toward Bethany by the narrow bridgeOf Kedron, upward to the olive ridge.Once on the camel path beyond the City,He looked back, struck at heart with pain and pity—Looked backward from the two lone cedar treesOn Olivet, alive to every breeze—Looked in a rush of sudden tears, and thenWent steadily on, never to turn again.Near the green quiets of a little woodThe Master halted silently and stood.The figs were purpling, and a fledgling doveHad fallen from a windy bough above,And lay there crying feebly by a thorn,Its little body bruisèd and forlorn.He stept aside a moment from the restAnd put it safely back into the nest.Then mighty words did seem to rise in HimAnd die away: even as white vapors swimA moment on Mount Carmel’s purple steep,And then are blown back rainless to the deep.And once He looked up with a little start:Perhaps some loved name passed across His heart,Some memory of a road in Galilee,Or old familiar rock beside the Sea.And suddenly there broke upon our sightA rush of angels terrible with light—The high same host the Shepherds saw go by,Breaking the starry night with lyric cry—A rush of angels, wistful and aware,That shook a thousand colors on the air—Colors that made a music to the eye—Glories of lilac, azure, gold, vermilion,Blown from the air-hung delicate pavilion.And now His face grew bright with luminous will:The great grave eyes grew planet-like and still.Yea, in that moment all His face fire-whiteSeemed struck out of imperishable light.Delicious apprehension shook the spirit,With song so still that only the heart could hear it.A sense of something sacred, starry, vast,Greater than Earth, across the being passed.Then with a stretching of His hands to bless,A last unspeakable look that was caress,Up through thevorticeof bright cherubimHe rose until the august form grew dim—Up through the blue dome of the day ascended,By circling flights of seraphim befriended.He was uplifted from us, and was goneInto the darkness of another dawn.
In the gray dawn they left Jerusalem,And I rose up to follow after them.He led toward Bethany by the narrow bridgeOf Kedron, upward to the olive ridge.Once on the camel path beyond the City,He looked back, struck at heart with pain and pity—Looked backward from the two lone cedar treesOn Olivet, alive to every breeze—Looked in a rush of sudden tears, and thenWent steadily on, never to turn again.Near the green quiets of a little woodThe Master halted silently and stood.The figs were purpling, and a fledgling doveHad fallen from a windy bough above,And lay there crying feebly by a thorn,Its little body bruisèd and forlorn.He stept aside a moment from the restAnd put it safely back into the nest.Then mighty words did seem to rise in HimAnd die away: even as white vapors swimA moment on Mount Carmel’s purple steep,And then are blown back rainless to the deep.And once He looked up with a little start:Perhaps some loved name passed across His heart,Some memory of a road in Galilee,Or old familiar rock beside the Sea.And suddenly there broke upon our sightA rush of angels terrible with light—The high same host the Shepherds saw go by,Breaking the starry night with lyric cry—A rush of angels, wistful and aware,That shook a thousand colors on the air—Colors that made a music to the eye—Glories of lilac, azure, gold, vermilion,Blown from the air-hung delicate pavilion.And now His face grew bright with luminous will:The great grave eyes grew planet-like and still.Yea, in that moment all His face fire-whiteSeemed struck out of imperishable light.Delicious apprehension shook the spirit,With song so still that only the heart could hear it.A sense of something sacred, starry, vast,Greater than Earth, across the being passed.Then with a stretching of His hands to bless,A last unspeakable look that was caress,Up through thevorticeof bright cherubimHe rose until the august form grew dim—Up through the blue dome of the day ascended,By circling flights of seraphim befriended.He was uplifted from us, and was goneInto the darkness of another dawn.
In the gray dawn they left Jerusalem,And I rose up to follow after them.He led toward Bethany by the narrow bridgeOf Kedron, upward to the olive ridge.Once on the camel path beyond the City,He looked back, struck at heart with pain and pity—Looked backward from the two lone cedar treesOn Olivet, alive to every breeze—Looked in a rush of sudden tears, and thenWent steadily on, never to turn again.
In the gray dawn they left Jerusalem,
And I rose up to follow after them.
He led toward Bethany by the narrow bridge
Of Kedron, upward to the olive ridge.
Once on the camel path beyond the City,
He looked back, struck at heart with pain and pity—
Looked backward from the two lone cedar trees
On Olivet, alive to every breeze—
Looked in a rush of sudden tears, and then
Went steadily on, never to turn again.
Near the green quiets of a little woodThe Master halted silently and stood.The figs were purpling, and a fledgling doveHad fallen from a windy bough above,And lay there crying feebly by a thorn,Its little body bruisèd and forlorn.He stept aside a moment from the restAnd put it safely back into the nest.
Near the green quiets of a little wood
The Master halted silently and stood.
The figs were purpling, and a fledgling dove
Had fallen from a windy bough above,
And lay there crying feebly by a thorn,
Its little body bruisèd and forlorn.
He stept aside a moment from the rest
And put it safely back into the nest.
Then mighty words did seem to rise in HimAnd die away: even as white vapors swimA moment on Mount Carmel’s purple steep,And then are blown back rainless to the deep.And once He looked up with a little start:Perhaps some loved name passed across His heart,Some memory of a road in Galilee,Or old familiar rock beside the Sea.
Then mighty words did seem to rise in Him
And die away: even as white vapors swim
A moment on Mount Carmel’s purple steep,
And then are blown back rainless to the deep.
And once He looked up with a little start:
Perhaps some loved name passed across His heart,
Some memory of a road in Galilee,
Or old familiar rock beside the Sea.
And suddenly there broke upon our sightA rush of angels terrible with light—The high same host the Shepherds saw go by,Breaking the starry night with lyric cry—A rush of angels, wistful and aware,That shook a thousand colors on the air—Colors that made a music to the eye—Glories of lilac, azure, gold, vermilion,Blown from the air-hung delicate pavilion.
And suddenly there broke upon our sight
A rush of angels terrible with light—
The high same host the Shepherds saw go by,
Breaking the starry night with lyric cry—
A rush of angels, wistful and aware,
That shook a thousand colors on the air—
Colors that made a music to the eye—
Glories of lilac, azure, gold, vermilion,
Blown from the air-hung delicate pavilion.
And now His face grew bright with luminous will:The great grave eyes grew planet-like and still.Yea, in that moment all His face fire-whiteSeemed struck out of imperishable light.Delicious apprehension shook the spirit,With song so still that only the heart could hear it.A sense of something sacred, starry, vast,Greater than Earth, across the being passed.
And now His face grew bright with luminous will:
The great grave eyes grew planet-like and still.
Yea, in that moment all His face fire-white
Seemed struck out of imperishable light.
Delicious apprehension shook the spirit,
With song so still that only the heart could hear it.
A sense of something sacred, starry, vast,
Greater than Earth, across the being passed.
Then with a stretching of His hands to bless,A last unspeakable look that was caress,Up through thevorticeof bright cherubimHe rose until the august form grew dim—Up through the blue dome of the day ascended,By circling flights of seraphim befriended.He was uplifted from us, and was goneInto the darkness of another dawn.
Then with a stretching of His hands to bless,
A last unspeakable look that was caress,
Up through thevorticeof bright cherubim
He rose until the august form grew dim—
Up through the blue dome of the day ascended,
By circling flights of seraphim befriended.
He was uplifted from us, and was gone
Into the darkness of another dawn.