Selected Poems of Francis Thompson — From "Assumpta Maria"
_"Thou needst not make new songs, but say the old."
_--COWLEY.
"_Mortals, that behold a Woman, Rising 'twixt the Moon and Sun;
Who am I the heavens assume?
an All am I, and I am one.
_ "Multitudinous ascend I, Dreadful as a battle arrayed, For I bear you whither tend I;
Ye are I: be undismayed!
I, the Ark that for the graven Tables of the Law was made;
Man's own heart was one, one Heaven, Both within my womb were laid.
For there Anteros with Eros Heaven with man conjoinèd was,-- Twin-stone of the Law, _Ischyros, Agios Athanatos_.
"I, the flesh-girt Paradises Gardenered by the Adam new, Daintied o'er with sweet devices Which He loveth, for He grew.
I, the boundless strict savannah Which God's leaping feet go through;
I, the heaven whence the Manna, Weary Israel, slid on you!
He the Anteros and Eros, I the body, He the Cross;
He upbeareth me, _Ischyros, Agios Athanatos_!
"I am Daniel's mystic Mountain, Whence the mighty stone was rolled;
I am the four Rivers' fountain, Watering Paradise of old;
Cloud down-raining the Just One am, Danae of the Shower of Gold;
I the Hostel of the Sun am;
He the Lamb, and I the Fold.
He the Anteros and Eros, I the body, He the Cross;
He is fast to me, _Ischyros, Agios Athanatos_!
"I, the presence-hall where Angels Do enwheel their placèd King-- Even my thoughts which, without change else, Cyclic burn and cyclic sing.
To the hollow of Heaven transplanted, I a breathing Eden spring, Where with venom all outpanted Lies the slimed Curse shrivelling.
For the brazen Serpent clear on That old fangèd knowledge shone;
I to Wisdom rise, _Ischyron, Agion Athanaton_!
* * * * * "Then commanded and spake to me He who framed all things that be;
And my Maker entered through me, In my tent His rest took He.
Lo!
He standeth, Spouse and Brother, I to Him, and He to me, Who upraised me where my mother Fell, beneath the apple-tree.
Risen 'twixt Anteros and Eros, Blood and Water, Moon and Sun, He upbears me, He _Ischyros_, I bear Him, the _Athanaton_!"
Where is laid the Lord arisen?
In the light we walk in gloom.
Though the sun has burst his prison, We know not his biding-room.
Tell us where the Lord sojourneth, For we find an empty tomb.
"Whence He sprung, there He returneth, Mystic Sun,--the Virgin's Womb."
Hidden Sun, His beams so near us, Cloud enpillared as He was From of old, there He, _Ischyros_, Waits our search, _Athanatos_!
Camp of Angels!
Well we even Of this thing may doubtful be,-- If thou art assumed to Heaven, Or is Heaven assumed to thee!
_Consummatum.
_ Christ the promised, Thy maiden realm is won, O Strong!
Since to such sweet Kingdom comest, Remember me, poor Thief of Song!
Cadent fails the stars along:-- "_Mortals, that behold a woman Rising 'twixt the Moon and Sun;
Who am I the heavens assume?
an All am I, and I am one.
_"
