Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.

Walter C. Smith b. 1824

The Self-Exiled

THERE came a soul to the gate of Heaven

Gliding slow—

A soul that was ransom’d and forgiven,

And white as snow:

And the angels all were silent.

A mystic light beam’d from the face

Of the radiant maid,

But there also lay on its tender grace

A mystic shade:

And the angels all were silent.

As sunlit clouds by a zephyr borne

Seem not to stir,

So to the golden gates of morn

They carried her:

And the angels all were silent.

“Now open the gate, and let her in,

And fling it wide,

For she has been cleans’d from stain of sin,”

St. Peter cried:

And the angels all were silent.

“Though I am cleans’d from stain of sin,”

She answer’d low,

“I came not hither to enter in,

Nor may I go:”

And the angels all were silent.

“I come,” she said, “to the pearly door,

To see the Thorne

Where sits the Lamb on the Sapphire Floor,

With God alone:”

And the angels all were silent.

“I come to hear the new song they sing

To Him that died,

And note where the healing waters spring

From His pierced side:”

And the angels all were silent.

“But I may not enter there,” she said,

“For I must go

Across the gulf where the guilty dead

Lie in their woe:”

And the angels all were silent.

“If I enter heaven I may not pass

To where they be,

Though the wail of their bitter pain, alas!

Tormenteth me:”

And the angels all were silent.

“If I enter heaven I may not speak

My soul’s desire

For them that are lying distraught and weak

In flaming fire:”

And the angels all were silent.

“I had a brother, and also another

Whom I lov’d well;

What if, in anguish, they curse each other

In the depths of hell?”

And the angels all were silent.

“How could I touch the golden harps,

When all my praise

Would be so wrought with grief-full warps

Of their sad days?”

And the angels all were silent.

“How love the lov’d who are sorrowing,

And yet be glad?

How sing the songs ye are fain to sing,

While I am sad?”

And the angels all were silent.

“Oh, clear as glass is the golden street

Of the city fair,

And the tree of life it maketh sweet

The lightsome air:”

And the angels all were silent.

“And the white-rob’d saints with their crowns and palms

Are good to see,

And oh, so grand are the sounding psalms!

But not for me:”

And the angels all were silent.

“I come where there is no night,” she said,

“To go away,

And help, if I yet may help, the dead

That have no day.”

And the angels all were silent.

“St. Peter he turned the keys about,

And answer’d grim:

“Can you love the Lord, and abide without,

Afar from Him?”

And the angels all were silent.

“Can you love the Lord who died for you,

And leave the place

Where His glory is all disclos’d to view,

And tender grace?”

And the angels all were silent.

“They go not out who come in here;

It were not meet:

Nothing they lack, for He is here,

And bliss complete.”

And the angels all were silent.

“Should I be nearer Christ,” she said,

“By pitying less

The sinful living or woeful dead

In their helplessness?”

And the angels all were silent.

“Should I be liker Christ were I

To love no more

The lov’d, who in their anguish lie

Outside the door?”

And the angels all were silent.

“Did He not hang on the curs’d tree,

And bear its shame,

And clasp to His heart, for love of me,

My guilt and blame?”

And the angels all were silent.

“Should I be liker, nearer Him,

Forgetting this,

Singing all day with the Seraphim,

In selfish bliss?”

And the angels all were silent.

The Lord Himself stood by the Gate,

And heard her speak

Those tender words compassionate,

Gentle and meek:

And the angels all were silent.

Now, pity is the touch of God

In human hearts,

And from that way He ever trod

He ne’er departs:

And the angels all were silent.

And He said, “Now will I go with you,

Dear child of love,

I am weary of all this glory, too,

In heaven above:”

And the angels all were silent.

“We will go seek and save the lost,

If they will hear,

They who are worst but need me most,

And all are dear:”

And the angels were not silent.