I felt begin The Judgment-Day: to retrocede Was too late now. “In very deed,” (I uttered to myself) “that Day!” The intuition burned away All darkness from my spirit too: There, stood I, found and fixed, I knew, Choosing the world. The choice was made; And naked and disguiseless stayed, And unevadable, the fact. My brain held ne’ertheless compact Its senses, nor my heart declined Its office; rather, both combined To help me in this juncture. I Lost not a second,—agony Gave boldness: since my life had end And my choice with it—best defend, Applaud both! I resolved to say, “So was I framed by thee, such way “I put to use thy senses here! “It was so beautiful, so near, “Thy world,—what could I then but choose “My part there? Nor did I refuse “To look above the transient boon “Of time; but it was hard so soon “As in a short life, to give up “Such beauty: I could put the cup “Undrained of half its fulness, by; “But, to renounce it utterly, “—That was too hard! Nor did the cry “Which bade renounce it, touch my brain “Authentically deep and plain “Enough to make my lips let go. “But thou, who knowest all, dost know “Whether I was not, life’s brief while, “Endeavouring to reconcile “Those lips (too tardily, alas!) “To letting the dear remnant pass, “One day,—some drops of earthly good “Untasted! Is it for this mood, “That thou, whose earth delights so well, “Hast made its complement a hell?” XVII. A final belch of fire like blood, Overbroke all heaven in one flood Of doom. Then fire was sky, and sky Fire, and both, one brief ecstasy, Then ashes. But I heard no noise (Whatever was) because a voice Beside me spoke thus, “Life is done, “Time ends, Eternity’s begun, “And thou art judged for evermore.” As in “Christmas-Eve,” the question rises of a Presence in the awful scene. XIX. * * * * * What if, ’twixt skies And prostrate earth, he should surprise The imaged vapour, head to foot, Surveying, motionless and mute, Its work, ere, in a whirlwind rapt It vanish up again?—So hapt My chance. HE stood there. Like the smoke Pillared o’er Sodom, when day broke,— I saw him. One magnific pall Mantled in massive fold and fall His head, and coiled in snaky swathes About his feet: night’s black, that bathes All else, broke, grizzled with despair, Against the soul of blackness there. A gesture told the mood within— That wrapped right hand which based the chin That intense meditation fixed On his procedure,—pity mixed With the fulfilment of decree. Motionless, thus, he spoke to me, Who fell before his feet, a mass, No man now.