[Editor: This poem by Mary Eliza Fullerton was published in Moods and Melodies: Sonnets and Lyrics (1908).]
The Prophet
To him the walls of sense are gossamer;
Behind them shapes and tones are heard and seen —
Dim known but real; until at last the screen,
With many a breath of spirit lips astir,
Sways half aside; so that which is a blur,
To eyes dust-filled, lies clear between
The curtain folds — a panoramic scene
For him, the prophet and the heralder.
“Lo!” he adjures his bustling fellowmen,
Who at the whirling mills pursue their task;
They glance, but seeing nought turn back again:
“How can we see the Hidden now?” they ask,
“In flesh, and toil, and pain,” and so let slip
The pageant of fulfilled apprenticeship.
Source:
Mary E. Fullerton, Moods and Melodies: Sonnets and Lyrics, Melbourne: Thomas C. Lothian, 1908, p. 26
Editor’s notes:
nought = (an alternative spelling of “naught”) nothing; zero; failure, without result; lost, ruined (older meanings are: ruined, useless, worthless; morally bad, wicked)
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