Law and Grace
Yes, I remember: once beneath a yoke
We walked, with jealous pride and painful fear:
Then a stern footstep sounded ever near;
And, when that Presence dread His silence broke,
Austere and cold as if a statue spoke,
Each marble sentence smote upon my ear;
Yet “Thou shalt not,” was all that I could hear—
Then sudden from its trance my spirit woke.
The sun was shining. Floods of light divine,
Golden and crimson on the mountains played.
I saw the village spire like silver shine:
Æolian music filled the echoing shade:
And I could hear, through all the murmuring glen,
Music of moving Gods come down to live with men.
We walked, with jealous pride and painful fear:
Then a stern footstep sounded ever near;
And, when that Presence dread His silence broke,
Austere and cold as if a statue spoke,
Each marble sentence smote upon my ear;
Yet “Thou shalt not,” was all that I could hear—
Then sudden from its trance my spirit woke.
The sun was shining. Floods of light divine,
Golden and crimson on the mountains played.
I saw the village spire like silver shine:
Æolian music filled the echoing shade:
And I could hear, through all the murmuring glen,
Music of moving Gods come down to live with men.
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