But by her side was kneeling her better angel, that hid his face with
wings; that wept and pleaded for _her_; that prayed when _she_ could
_not_; that fought with Heaven by tears for _her_ deliverance; which
also, as he raised his immortal countenance from his wings, I saw, by
the glory in his eye, that from Heaven he had won at last.
V
Then was completed the passion of the mighty fugue. The golden tubes of
the organ, which as yet had but muttered at intervals--gleaming amongst
clouds and surges of incense--threw up, as from fountains unfathomable,
columns of heart-shattering music. Choir and anti-choir were filling
fast with unknown voices. Thou also, Dying Trumpeter, with thy love
that was victorious, and thy anguish that was finishing, didst enter
the tumult; trumpet and echo--farewell love, and farewell anguish--rang
through the dreadful _sanctus_. Oh, darkness of the grave! that
from the crimson altar and from the fiery font wert visited and
searched by the effulgence in the angel's eye--were these indeed thy
children? Pomps of life, that, from the burials of centuries, rose
again to the voice of perfect joy, did ye indeed mingle with the
festivals of Death? Lo! as I looked back for seventy leagues through
the mighty cathedral, I saw the quick and the dead that sang together
to God, together that sang to the generations of man.
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