The Beloved Disciple

I.     One do I see and twelve; but second there     Methinks I know thee, thou beloved one;     Not from thy nobler port, for there are none     More quiet-featured: some there are who bear     Their message on their brows, while others wear     A look of large commission, nor will shun     The fiery trial, so their work is done;     But thou hast parted with thine eyes in prayer--     Unearthly are they both; and so thy lips     Seem like the porches of the spirit land;     For thou hast laid a mighty treasure by     Unlocked by Him in Nature, and thine eye     Burns with a vision and apocalypse     Thy own sweet soul can hardly understand.     II.     A Boanerges too! Upon my heart     It lay a heavy hour: features like thine     Should glow with other message than the shine     Of the earth-burrowing levin, and the start     That cleaveth horrid gulfs! Awful and swart     A moment stoodest thou, but less divine--     Brawny and clad in ruin--till with mine     Thy heart made answering signals, and apart     Beamed forth thy two rapt eyeballs doubly clear     And twice as strong because thou didst thy duty,     And, though affianced to immortal Beauty,     Hiddest not weakly underneath her veil     The pest of Sin and Death which maketh pale:     Henceforward be thy spirit doubly dear!