Volume 1 — § 3.

SOUL. I will address him. Mighty one, my Lord, My guardian spirit, all hail! ANGEL. All hail, my child! My child and brother, hail! what wouldest thou? SOUL. I would have nothing but to speak with thee For speaking's sake. I wish to hold with thee Conscious communion; though I fain would know A maze of things, were it but meet to ask, And not a curiousness. ANGEL. You cannot now Cherish a wish which ought not to be wished. SOUL. Then I will speak. I ever had believed That on the moment when the struggling soul Quitted its mortal case, forthwith it fell Under the awful presence of its God, There to be judged and sent to its own place. What lets me now from going to my Lord? ANGEL. Thou art not let; but with extremest speed Art hurrying to the just and holy Judge: For scarcely art thou disembodied yet. Divide a moment, as men measure time, Into its million-million-millionth part, Yet even less than that the interval Since thou didst leave the body; and the priest Cried "Subvenite," and they fell to prayer; Nay, scarcely yet have they begun to pray. For spirits and men by different standards mete The less and greater in the flow of time. By sun and moon, primeval ordinances— By stars which rise and set harmoniously— By the recurring seasons, and the swing, This way and that, of the suspended rod Precise and punctual, men divide the hours, Equal, continuous, for their common use. Not so with us in th' immaterial world; But intervals in their succession {525} Are measured by the living thought alone, And grow or wane with its intensity. And time is not a common property; But what is long is short, and swift is slow, And near is distant, as received and grasped By this mind and by that, and every one Is standard of his own chronology. And memory lacks its natural resting-points, Of years, and centuries, and periods. It is thy very energy of thought Which keeps thee from thy God. SOUL. Dear angel, say, Why have I now no fear at meeting him? Along my earthly life, the thought of death And judgment was to me most terrible. I had it aye before me, and I saw The Judge severe e'en in the crucifix. Now that the hour is come, my fear is fled; And at this balance of my destiny, Now close upon me, I can forward look With a serenest joy. ANGEL. It is because Then thou didst fear, that now thou dost not fear. Thou hast forestalled the agony, and so For thee the bitterness of death is passed Also, because already in thy soul The judgment is begun. That day of doom, One and the same for the collected world— That solemn consummation for all flesh, Is, in the case of each, anticipate Upon his death; and, as the last great day In the particular judgment is rehearsed, So now too, ere thou comest to the throne, A presage falls upon thee, as a ray Straight from the Judge, expressive of thy lot. That calm and joy uprising in thy soul Is first-fruit to thee of thy recompense, And heaven begun.