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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415734" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Angel of the Doves</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The angels stood in the court of the King,<br>And into the midst, through the open door,<br>Weeping came one whose broken wing<br>Piteously trailed on the golden floor.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Angel was she, and woman, and dove:<br>Dove and angel all womanly blent<br>With the virginal charm that is worshipped of love<br>On the hither side of the firmament.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where a rainbow hideth the holiest place,<br>Thither she moved, and there she kneeled;<br>And fain with her wings would have veiled her face,<br>Ere the bow should be lifted, and God revealed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis the angels' wont; and afresh she wept,<br>As with maimèd pinion she strove in vain,<br>And tremor on tremor convulsively swept<br>O'er her plumes in a shuddering iris of pain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the angels who dwell from sorrow remote<br>Gazed on her woe as a marvellous thing;<br>For they wist but of pain from its echoes that float<br>In the strange new songs that the ransomed sing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Sister,” at length said a shining one,<br>“To whom earth's doves for a care were given,<br>What hast thou done, or left undone,<br>That grief through thee should be known in heaven?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“When together for joy the angels sang,<br>Calling the new-made world to rejoice,<br>Sweeter than all hosannas that rang<br>Was the trembling rapture that thrilled thy voice.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“For thine was the grace to minister there—<br>Oh, favoured child of the heavenly host!—<br>To the sacred and lovely lives that wear<br>The mystic shape of the Holy Ghost.<br>“And we marked thy flight as the flight of a dove,<br>Till the luminous vapours around thee curled,<br>And we said, ‘She is glad in her errand of love<br>To the happy glades of the new-born world.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“And now thou returnest woe-stricken as one<br>That hath fallen from grace and is unforgiven.<br> <br>What hast thou done, or left undone,<br>That grief through thee should be known in heaven?”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Faint was her voice as an echo heard<br>From the past by the soul in dreamful mood;<br>Sweet and sad as the plaint of a bird<br>Mourning forlorn in solitude.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“I tended my doves,” she said through her tears,<br>“By day and by night, in storm and calm.<br>Happily flew the uncounted years<br>In bowers of myrtle and groves of palm.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Many, alas, were the beautiful dead,<br>But the life of the race was always new,<br>For, ever ere one generation fled,<br>Out of its love another grew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“And many a dove for man's sake died,<br>Noted in heaven with none offence,<br>Save when the heart of the cruel took pride<br>In slaying the witness of innocence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“When countless seasons had come and gone,<br>Come and gone as a happy dream,<br>One noon of summer I lingered upon<br>The eastward marge of a sacred stream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“And lo, 'mid a crowd on the further side,<br>That stood in the stream or knelt on the sod,<br>I saw—though a veil of flesh did hide<br>The splendour of Godhead—the Son of God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“And ev'n as I gazed, the azure above<br>Burst into glory that dimmed the sun;<br>And the Spirit of God in the form of a dove<br>I saw descend on the Holy One.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“I deemed that my task was over then;<br>‘'Tis the dawn,’ I said, ‘of the reign of love;<br>Henceforth my doves will be safe with men,<br>Since God hath hallowed the form of the dove.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Then I soared aloft, but again returned;<br>For I said in my heart, ‘I will not cease<br>From my care, till man from His lips hath learned<br>That the birds have a share in the Gospel of Peace.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“And it chanced on a day in the soft springtide,<br>When birds were joyous and love was sweet,<br>I saw the Lord on a mountain side,<br> <br>And with Him were twelve, who sat at His feet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“And I heard Him say, ‘Not a sparrow doth fall<br>To the ground but your Father taketh note,’<br>Then all the air grew musical,<br>And song awoke in each warbling throat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“For into bird-music the message passed,<br>And from choir to choir in melody ran;<br>And I said, ‘My mission is over at last.<br>Farewell, my doves. Ye are safe with man.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Weeping, yet gladsome, I soared aloft,<br>Being fain of the glories of other spheres,<br>Whose beckoning lustre had lured me oft<br>In starry midnights of bygone years.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“And on seas of ether and isles of light<br>Through ages of joy I floated or trod,<br>Till I chanced on an angel in upward flight,<br>Bearing an infant home to God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“And a waft of earth from the flowers that lay<br>On the young dead breast came sweet and faint;<br>And again, dream-echoed from far away,<br>I heard in the woodlands the turtle's plaint.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“For memory woke at the flowers' sweet breath,<br>And my spirit yearned to the earth again,<br>And I cried, ‘Canst thou tell, oh angel of death,<br>How fare my doves at the hands of men?’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“ ‘Sad is their lot,’ the angel sighed;<br>‘For the pleasure of man they suffer pain;<br>And the heart of the cruel taketh pride<br>To slay thy doves and to number the slain.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“I knew no more till the vapours of earth<br>Clung to my wings, and a pealing sound<br>Smote on mine ear, and voices of mirth;<br>And beneath me a dove fell dead to the ground.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Leave me with God; for ye cannot know<br>How death takes shape in the human hand,<br>Nor the subtle devices that work for woe;<br>But the Lord will hear and will understand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“And if, as I clove my unseen way<br>Between my doves and the deadly rain,<br>It was given unto me to become as they,<br>To share their wounds and to know their pain—<br> <br>“Surely the rather will God give ear<br>To one who knoweth what He hath known;<br>Surely the rather will Jesus hear,<br>Who suffered, as I, for love of His own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Can it be that the great Lord doth not know<br>How Christ is needed on earth again?<br>Rise, lingering curtain! that I may show<br>The wounds of my doves, and may pray for men.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>* * * * *<br>Slowly the rainbow rose, parting in twain;<br>And, lo, in the midst of the throne of love<br>There stood a Lamb as it had been slain;<br>And over the throne there brooded a Dove.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Brunton+Stephens">James Brunton Stephens</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415734" data-title="The Angel of the Doves de James Brunton Stephens" data-description="The angels stood in the court of the King,
And into the midst, through the open door,
Weeping came one whose broken wing
Piteously trailed on the golden floor.

Angel was she, and woman, and dove:
Dove and angel all womanly blent
With the virginal..."></div>
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