Elijah

Into that good old Hebrews soul sublime     The spirit of the wilderness had passed;     For where the thunders of imperial Storm     Rolled over mighty hills; and where the caves     Of cloud-capt Horeb rang with hurricane;     And where wild-featured Solitude did hold     Supreme dominion; there the prophet saw     And heard and felt that large mysterious life     Which lies remote from cities, in the woods     And rocks and waters of the mountained Earth.     And so it came to pass, Elijah caught     That scholarship which gave him power to see     And solve the deep divinity that lies     With Nature, under lordly forest-domes,     And by the seas; and so his spirit waxed,     Made strong and perfect by its fellowship     With Gods authentic world, until his eyes     Became a splendour, and his face was as     A glory with the vision of the seer.     Thereafter, thundering in the towns of men,     His voice, a trumpet of the Lord, did shake     All evil to its deep foundations. He,     The hairy man who ran before the king,     Like some wild spectre fleeting through the storm,     What time Jezreels walls were smitten hard     By fourfold wind and rain; twas he who slew     The liars at the altars of the gods,     And, at the very threshold of a throne,     Heaped curses on its impious lord; twas he     Jehovah raised to grapple Sin that stalked,     Arrayed about with kingship; and to strike     Through gold and purple, to the heart of it.     And therefore Falsehood quaked before his face,     And Tyranny grew dumb at sight of him,     And Lust and Murder raged abroad no more;     But where these were he walked, a shining son     Of Truth, and cleared and sanctified the land.     Not always was the dreaded Tishbite stern;     The scourge of despots, when he saw the face     Of Love in sorrow by the bed of Death,     Grew tender as a maid; and she who missed     A little mouth that used to catch, and cling     A small, sweet trouble at her yearning breast;*     Yea, she of Zarephath, who sat and mourned     The silence of a birdlike voice that made     Her flutter with the joy of motherhood     In other days, she came to know the heart     Of Pity that the rugged prophet had.     And when he took the soft, still child away,     And laid it on his bed; and in the dark     Sent up a pleading voice to Heaven; and drew     The little body to his breast; and held     It there until the bright, young soul returned     To earth again; the gladdened woman saw     A radiant beauty in Elijahs eyes,     And knew the stranger was a man of God.     We want a new Elijah in these days,     A mighty spirit clad in shining arms     Of Truth yea, one whose lifted voice would break,     Like thunder, on our modern Apathy,     And shake the fanes of Falsehood from their domes     Down to the firm foundations; one whose words,     Directly coming from a source divine,     Would fall like flame where Vice holds festival,     And search the inmost heart of nations; one     Made godlike with that scholarship supreme     Which comes of suffering; one, with eyes to see     The very core of things; with hands to grasp     High opportunities, and use them for     His glorious mission; one, whose face inspired     Would wear a terror for the lying soul,     But seem a glory in the sight of those     Who make the light and sweetness of the world,     And are the high priests of the Beautiful.     Yea, one like this we want amongst us now     To drive away the evil fogs that choke     Our social atmosphere, and leave it clear     And pure and hallowed with authentic light.