There fell on me a dream when days were gray, <br />And Hope had left me there to grope alone <br />Amid the silence of an unknown way <br />Vaulted with night and paved with barren stone, <br />Wherein such awful stillness held the air, <br />’Twere comfort but to breathe one’s own despair. <br />Till in my terror called I Him, who bore <br />The whole world’s sin upon His sinless soul, <br />Saying:—“O mighty Heart, whose Godhead wore, <br />E’en as a garment, all our pain and dole, <br />Touch Thou my soul with fire; and let there be <br />Some meed of Godhead even unto me!” <br /> <br />Then from the purple dark I saw arise, <br />Silent, the pale form of the Nazarene, <br />With deathless light of message in His eyes, <br />And that vast human pity in His mien, <br />Purer than purest depths of summer skies, <br />Not less unfathomed and not less serene. <br /> <br />“Brother,” He answered, “Wilt thou call to Me <br />As to a God and worship where I tread? <br />Cold were the splendour of My victory <br />If, dowered with Godhead, I for man had bled, <br />Who fell, a warrior battling in the van, <br />To prove to men what man can do for man.” <br /> <br />“For thro’ all Ages, on untrodden ways, <br />Heart-sick and weary in the desperate fight, <br />Earth shall bring forth the harvest of her days— <br />Her strong deliverers leading to the light. <br />And all who follow Truth and who have trod <br />Her bitter pathways are the Sons of God!”<br /><br />George Essex Evans<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-vision-of-christ/
