All Love with Wonder Blended

Like new-born Thoughts that glow and burn, suspended
In the vast pantheon of an Angel's mind,
All thought with love, all love with wonder blended,

We rest, and lo ! with vision unconfined, 
See a DIVINELY HUMAN FORM who stands 
Upon the sun, and holds a diamond rod.

It is a shadow from the face of God, 
In-formed in quivering light. 

Seraphic bands 
Rise from the sun like many-colored rays, 
Chanting around it melodies of praise. 

"Know ye that Angel standing on the sun?" 
 A ministering spirit asks. 

That look 
The very look, the great, yet Crucified One, 
Divine with love that Evil could not brook, 
But turned with all its alien hosts and fled Into the dark dominions of the dead 
That look, whose light o'er darkened Calvary shone, 
In-streams on me I know it know it well. 

Not in man's heart doth thy dear likeness dwell, 
O Lord ! alone. 

'Tis imaged o'er the dome 
That spans the sun, the bright imperial home 
Of angel-nations, and forever shines, 
Filling with seven-fold light those vast and tranquil climes
Forever beaming there, the Day of day, 
Whose glory clothes the orb with Love's perennial May.

Thou Sun, rejoice ! 
Ye goodly company 
That round it throng, and fill with harmony 
Of planetary life, the stellar space 
Ye too rejoice, run brightening on your race ! 

Not from the sun alone ye draw your light : 
The great Creator's image stands thereon, 
Outpouring from your system's inner height 
Such floods of glory, that the horizon 
Rolls back an evening splendor on the morning.

 Cease, cease, oh, mortal man, the idle scorning 
 Of the high mystery God in Christ ; for lo, 
 Yon sun His image to the stars doth show, 
 And all the stars from God in Christ derive 
 Their light, and from His life their nations live. 
 The origin of Beauty, Love, and Truth 
 Of light, life, motion, and immortal youth 
 Of form, of music, sweetness, and delight, 
 Flashes from God's own Image on my sight.

I feel the pulses of the Eternal Soul 
In all my veins. 
My thoughts within me roll 
Like newborn planets, flushed with happy life. 

My nature is at rest.

There is no strife, 
No battle of contending forms above Earth and its spheres.


-T.L. Harris, An Epic of the Starry Heaven