So in that island-Eden I sojourned, Lerins, and saw where Vincent lived, and his, Life fountained from on high. That life was Love; For all their mighty knowledge food became Of Love Divine, and took, by Love absorbed, Shape from his flame-like body. Hard their beds; Ceaseless their prayers. They tilled a sterile soil; Beneath their hands it blossomed like the rose: O’er thymy hollows blew the nectared airs; Blue ocean flashed through olives. They had fled From praise of men; yet cities far away Rapt those meek saints to fill the bishop’s throne. I saw the light of God on faces calm That blended with man’s meditative might Simplicity of childhood, and, with both The sweetness of that flower-like sex which wears Through love’s Obedience twofold crowns of Love. O blissful time! In that bright island bloomed The third high region on the Hills of God, Above the rock, above the wood, the cloud:— There laughs the luminous air, there bursts anew Spring bud in summer on suspended lawns; There the bell tinkles while once more the lamb Trips by the sun-fed runnel: there green vales Lie lost in purple heavens.
Transfigured Life! This was thy glory, that, without a sigh, Who loved thee yet could leave thee! Thus it fell: One morning I was on the sea, and lo! An isle to Lerins near, but fairer yet, Till then unseen! A grassy vale sea-lulled Wound inward, breathing balm, with fruited trees, And stream through lilies gliding. By a door There stood a man in prime, and others sat Not far, some grey; and one, a weed of years, Lay like a withered wreath. An old man spake: “See what thou seest, and scan the mystery well! The man who stands so stately in his prime Is of this company the eldest born. The Saviour in His earthly sojourn, Risen, Perchance, or ere His Passion, who can tell, Stood up at this man’s door; and this man rose, And let Him in, and made for Him a feast; And Jesus said, ‘Tarry, till I return.’ Moreover, others are there on this isle, Both men and maids, who saw the Son of Man, And took Him in, and shine in endless youth; But we, the rest, in course of nature fade, For we believe, yet saw not God, nor touched.” Then spake I, “Here till death my home I make, Where Jesus trod.” And answered he in prime, “Not so; the Master hath for thee thy task. Parting, thus spake He: ‘Here for Mine Elect Abide thou. Bid him bear this crozier staff; My blessing rests thereon: the same shall drive The foes of God before him.’” Answer thus I made, “That crozier staff I will not touch Until I take it from that nail-pierced Hand.” From these I turned, and clomb a mountain high, Hermon by name; and there—was this, my God, In visions of the Lord, or in the flesh?— I spake with Him, the Lord of Life, Who died; He from the glory stretched the Hand nail-pierced, And placed in mine that crozier staff, and said: “Upon that day when they that with Me walked Sit with Me on their everlasting Thrones, Judging the Twelve Tribes of Mine Israel, Thy People thou shalt judge in righteousness.”