Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

WALTER PATER by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON

Poem Explanation Poet Analysis

First Line: GRACIOUS GOD REST HIM, HE WHO TOILED SO WELL
Gracious God rest him! he who toiled so well

Secrets of grace to tell

Graciously; as the awed rejoicing priest
Gracious God rest him! he who toiled so well
Officiates at the feast,
Secrets of grace to tell
Knowing how deep within the liturgies
Graciously; as the awed rejoicing priest
Lie hid the mysteries.
Officiates at the feast,
Half of a passionately pensive soul
Knowing how deep within the liturgies
He showed us, not the whole:
Lie hid the mysteries.
Who loved him best, they best, they only, knew
Half of a passionately pensive soul
The deeps they might not view;
He showed us, not the whole:
That which was private between God and him;
Who loved him best, they best, they only, knew
To others, justly dim.
The deeps they might not view;
Calm Oxford autumns and preluding springs!
That which was private between God and him;
To me your memory brings
To others, justly dim.
Delight upon delight, but chiefest one:
Calm Oxford autumns and preluding springs!
The thought of Oxford's son,
To me your memory brings
Who gave me of his welcome and his praise,
Delight upon delight, but chiefest one:
When white were still my days;
The thought of Oxford's son,
Ere death had left life darkling, nor had sent
Who gave me of his welcome and his praise,
Lament upon lament:
When white were still my days;
Ere sorrow told me how I loved my lost,
Ere death had left life darkling, nor had sent
And bade me base love's cost.
Lament upon lament:
Scholarship's constant saint, he kept her light
Ere sorrow told me how I loved my lost,
In him divinely white:
And bade me base love's cost.
With cloistral jealousness of ardour strove
Scholarship's constant saint, he kept her light
To guard her sacred grove,
In him divinely white:
Inviolate by worldly feet, nor paced
With cloistral jealousness of ardour strove
In desecrating haste.
To guard her sacred grove,
Oh, sweet grave smiling of that wisdom, brought
Inviolate by worldly feet, nor paced
From arduous ways of thought;
In desecrating haste.
Oh, golden patience of that travailing soul
Oh, sweet grave smiling of that wisdom, brought
So hungered for the goal,
From arduous ways of thought;
And vowed to keep, through subtly vigilant pain,
Oh, golden patience of that travailing soul
From pastime on the plain,
So hungered for the goal,
Enamoured of the difficult mountain air
And vowed to keep, through subtly vigilant pain,
Up beauty's Hill of Prayer!
From pastime on the plain,
Stern is the faith of art, right stern, and he
Enamoured of the difficult mountain air
Loved her severity.
Up beauty's Hill of Prayer!
Momentous things he prized, gradual and fair
Stern is the faith of art, right stern, and he
Births of a passionate air:
Loved her severity.
Some austere setting of an ancient sun,
Momentous things he prized, gradual and fair
Its midday glories done,
Births of a passionate air:
Over a silent melancholy sea
Some austere setting of an ancient sun,
In sad serenity:
Its midday glories done,
Some delicate dawning of a new desire,
Over a silent melancholy sea
Distilling fragrant fire
In sad serenity:
On hearts of men prophetically fain
Some delicate dawning of a new desire,
To feel earth young again:
Distilling fragrant fire
Some strange rich passage of the dreaming earth,
On hearts of men prophetically fain
Fulfilled with warmth and worth.
To feel earth young again:
Ended, his service: yet, albeit farewell
Some strange rich passage of the dreaming earth,
Tolls the faint vesper bell,
Fulfilled with warmth and worth.
Patient beneath his Oxford trees and towers
Ended, his service: yet, albeit farewell
He still is gently ours:
Tolls the faint vesper bell,
Hierarch of the spirit, pure and strong,
Patient beneath his Oxford trees and towers
Worthy Uranian song.
He still is gently ours:
Gracious God keep him: and God grant to me
Hierarch of the spirit, pure and strong,
By miracle to see
Worthy Uranian song.
That unforgettably most gracious friend,
Gracious God keep him: and God grant to me
In the never-ending end!
By miracle to see
Gracious God rest him! he who toiled so well
That unforgettably most gracious friend,
Secrets of grace to tell
In the never-ending end!
Graciously; as the awed rejoicing priest

Officiates at the feast,

Knowing how deep within the liturgies
Lie hid the mysteries.
Half of a passionately pensive soul
He showed us, not the whole:
Who loved him best, they best, they only, knew
The deeps they might not view;
That which was private between God and him;
To others, justly dim.
Calm Oxford autumns and preluding springs!
To me your memory brings
Delight upon delight, but chiefest one:
The thought of Oxford's son,
Who gave me of his welcome and his praise,
When white were still my days;
Ere death had left life darkling, nor had sent
Lament upon lament:
Ere sorrow told me how I loved my lost,
And bade me base love's cost.
Scholarship's constant saint, he kept her light
In him divinely white:
With cloistral jealousness of ardour strove
To guard her sacred grove,
Inviolate by worldly feet, nor paced
In desecrating haste.
Oh, sweet grave smiling of that wisdom, brought
From arduous ways of thought;
Oh, golden patience of that travailing soul
So hungered for the goal,
And vowed to keep, through subtly vigilant pain,
From pastime on the plain,
Enamoured of the difficult mountain air
Up beauty's Hill of Prayer!
Stern is the faith of art, right stern, and he
Loved her severity.
Momentous things he prized, gradual and fair
Births of a passionate air:
Some austere setting of an ancient sun,
Its midday glories done,
Over a silent melancholy sea
In sad serenity:
Some delicate dawning of a new desire,
Distilling fragrant fire
On hearts of men prophetically fain
To feel earth young again:
Some strange rich passage of the dreaming earth,
Fulfilled with warmth and worth.
Ended, his service: yet, albeit farewell
Tolls the faint vesper bell,
Patient beneath his Oxford trees and towers
He still is gently ours:
Hierarch of the spirit, pure and strong,
Worthy Uranian song.
Gracious God keep him: and God grant to me
By miracle to see
That unforgettably most gracious friend,
In the never-ending end!




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