THE angels on th' eternal thrones In ecstacies of song conspire, And mingle their seraphic tones With words of wisdom, words of fire; Discourse so subtle and so sweet That should it strike on human ear, That soul must leave its base retreat, Attracted to a loftier sphere. So the sad Spirits, whom the will Of God exiles to outer pain, Yearning in their dark bosoms still For all their pride might most disdain, Round the serene celestial halls Hover in agonised suspense, To catch the slightest sound that falls, The faintest breeze that murmurs thence. But holy instinct strikes a sting Into each pure angelic breast, The moment any sinful thing Approaches its religious rest; And when their meteor darts are hurled Th' audacious listeners to surprise, 'Tis said by mortals in their world, That Stars are falling in the Skies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SELLING HER ENGAGEMENT RING by KAREN SWENSON THE RESOLVE by ALEXANDER BROME SONNET TO A FRIEND WHO ASKED, HOW I FELT ... MY INFANT TO ME by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE ABBOT OF INISFALEN by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE KNIGHTS: THE POET AND HIS RIVALS by ARISTOPHANES LEAVES A-VALLEN by WILLIAM BARNES THE CALL TO ARMS by CARL JOHN BOSTELMANN BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 1. THE THIRD SONG by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |