Classic Poem

" Nay, think not evil of him; he is dead:
His heart was white, if warring hands were red:
He rests in peace: forgive him " — so God said.

" He fought a battle that ye cannot see,
And sought with terrible great passion Me:
His work is over; let the singer be.

" He fiercely strove for the superb embrace
I grant my chosen, — met Me face to face,
Standing like Moses in an awful place.

" He sought the kiss of Deity, — and now
It rests for ever on the dead calm brow:
He lived in Me, — ye understand not how.

" His soul was one with all the stars and seas
And with my vast inspiring spirit in these;
He heard the messages of flowers and trees.

" He worshipped Beauty with a love divine,
Pure at the root and passionate like mine;
Red roses for his wreath with white combine.

" Red roses, — for his heart was ever red
With weary sweet swift-dropping life-blood shed
For man and woman; twist them round his head.

" White roses, — for his heart was pure within,
And some was sorrow that ye counted sin;
He sought what most have little zeal to win.

" He sought with vast and ultimate desire
His soul to mingle with my Godhead's fire,
And, lifted once, to struggle ever higher.

" His sins were many: but the love that trod
That awful upward road towards me, me God,
Hath cleansed his sin: he ever walked thorn-shod.

" Not ever for one moment of one day
Was suffering's bitter harrowing goad away:
With him, to love and battle was to pray.

" They are not what ye think; these poets shed
Their blood for man, and, ere ye know, are dead:
Lo! I can love and honour " — so God said.