No More Learning

It is not from the places that entomb
Man's dead, though common Silence there dilates
Her soul to grand proportions, worthily
To fill life's vacant room.
Not there: not there.
Not yet within those chambers lieth He,
A dead one in his living world; his south
And west winds blowing over earth and sea,
And not a breath on that creating mouth.
But now,--a silence keeps
(Not death's, nor sleep's)
The lips whose whispered word
Might roll the thunders round reverberated.
Silent art thou, O my Lord,
Bowing down thy stricken head!
Fearest thou, a groan of thine
Would make the pulse of thy creation fail
As thine own pulse? --would rend the veil
Of visible things and let the flood
Of the unseen Light, the essential God,
Rush in to whelm the undivine?
Thy silence, to my thinking, is as dread.

_Zerah. _ O silence!

_Ador. _ Doth it say to thee--the NAME,
Slow-learning seraph?

_Zerah. _ I have learnt.

_Ador.
_ The flame
Perishes in thine eyes.

_Zerah. _ He opened his,
And looked. I cannot bear--

_Ador. _ Their agony?

_Zerah. _ Their love. God's depth is in them. From his brows
White, terrible in meekness, didst thou see
The lifted eyes unclose?
He is God, seraph! Look no more on me,
O God--I am not God.

_Ador. _ The loving is
Sublimed within them by the sorrowful.
In heaven we could sustain them.

_Zerah. _ Heaven is dull,
Mine Ador, to man's earth.