ON RAPHAEL’S ARCHANGEL MICHAEL.
Reading edition
From out the depths of crocus-coloured morn With rush of wings the strong Archangel came And glistening spear; and leapt as leaps a flame On Satan unprepared and earthward borne; And rolled the sunless Rebel, bruised and torn, Upon the earth’s bare plain, in dust and shame, Holding awhile his spear’s suspended aim Above the humbled head in radiant scorn. So leaps within the soul on Wrong or Lust The warrior Angel whom we deem not near, And rolls the rebel impulse in the dust, Scathing its neck with his triumphal tread, And holding high his bright coercing spear Above its inexterminable head.