90135: 'The time was aeon'

<p dir="ltr"> The time was aeon; and the place all earth.<br> The spectacle I saw was not a dream,<br> But true resumption of experienced things.<br> The scene meseemed one vast deformity,<br> Made lovely by pervasion of a spirit.<br> For as the morning sunshine sanctifies<br> Even the ordure of a sordid town,<br> So all this wreck was glamoured by some charm<br> A mystery of music. For, a Presence there<br> Created low, rich music, endlessly.<br> The Place was called the World, and lo! the name<br> Of him, the unapparent spirit, was<br> An evil Angel's; and I learnt the name<br> Of that strange, regnant Presence as the Flesh.<br> It bore the naked likeness of a boy<br> Flawlessly moulded, fine exceedingly,<br> Beautiful unsurpassably---so much<br> More portraiture were fond futility<br> For even thought is not long possible,<br> Becoming too soon passion: and meseemed<br> His outline changed, from beauty unto beauty,<br> As change the contours of slim, sleeping clouds.<br> His skin, too, glowed, pale scarlet like the clouds<br> Lit from the eastern underworld; which thing<br> Bewondered me the more. But I remember<br> The statue of his body standing so<br> Against the huge disorder of the place<br> Resembled a strong music; and it triumphed<br> Even as the trend of one clear perfect air<br> Across confusion of a thousand chords.<br> Then watched I how there ran towards that way<br> A multitude of railers, hot with hate,<br> And maddened by the voice of a small Jew<br> Who cried with a loud voice, saying 'Away!<br> Away with him!' and 'Crucify him! Him,<br> With the affections and the lusts thereof.'<br></p>