The Mystic
With wounds out-reddening every moon-washed roseKing Love went thro' earth's garden-close!From that first gate of birth in the golden gloom,I traced Him. Thorns had frayed His garment's hem,Ay, and His flesh! I marked, I followed themDown to that threshold of--the tomb?
And there Love vanished, yet I entered! NightAnd Doubt mocked at the dwindling light:Strange claw-like hands flung me their shadowy hate.I clomb the dreadful stairways of desireBetween a thousand eyes and wings of fireAnd knocked upon the second Gate.
The second Gate! When, like a warrior helmed,In battle on battle overwhelmed,My soul lay stabbed by all the swords of sense,Blinded and stunned by stars and flowers and trees,Did I not struggle to my bended kneesAnd wrestle with Omnipotence?
Did earth not flee before me, when the breathOf worship smote her with strange death,Withered her gilded garment, broke her sword,Shattered her graven images and smoteAll her light sorrows thro' the breast and throatWhose death-cry crowned me God and Lord?
Yea, God and Lord! Had tears not purged my sight?I saw the myriad gates of LightOpening and shutting in each way-side flower,And like a warder in the gleam of each,Death, whispering in some strange eternal speechTo every passing hour.
The second Gate? Was I not born to passA million? Though the skies be brassAnd the earth iron, shall I not win thro' all?Shall I who made the infinite heavens my markShrink from this first wild horror of the dark,These formless gulfs, these glooms that crawl?
Never was mine that easy faithless hopeWhich makes all life one flowery slopeTo heaven! Mine be the vast assaults of doom,Trumpets, defeats, red anguish, age-long strife,Ten million deaths, ten million gates to life,The insurgent heart that bursts the tomb.
Vain, vain, unutterably vain are allThe sights and sounds that sink and fall,The words and symbols of this fleeting breath:Shall I not drown the finite in the Whole,Cast off this body and complete my soulThro' deaths beyond this gate of death?
It will not open! Through the bars I seeThe glory and the mysteryWind upward ever! The earth-dawn breaks! I bleedWith beating here for entrance. Hark, O hark,Which is the Light of Life indeed.
Words in this poem 15
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- dreadful a.
- Full of dread or terror; fearful.
- helmed a.
- Covered with a helmet.
- wrestle v. i.
- To contend, by grappling with, and striving to trip or throw down, an opponent; as, they wrestled skillfully. [OE. wrestlen, wrastlen, AS. wr, freq. of wr to wrest; akin to OD. wrastelen to wrestle. See Wrest, v. t.]
- omnipotence n.
- The state of being omnipotent; almighty power; hence, one who is omnipotent; the Deity. [L. omnipotentia: cf.F. omnipotence.]
- broke v. i.
- To transact business for another. Brome. [See Broker, and cf. Brook.]
- graven p. p.
- Carved. Graven image, an idol; an object of worship carved from wood, stone, etc.
- myriad n.
- The number of ten thousand; ten thousand persons or things. [Gr. myriade.]
- warder n.
- One who wards or keeps; a keeper; a guard.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- formless a.
- Shapeless; without a determinate form; wanting regularity of shape.
- crawl v. i.
- To move slowly by drawing the body along the ground, as a worm; to move slowly on hands and kness; to creep. [Dan. kravle, or Icel. krafla, to paw, scrabble with the hands; akin to Sw. kr to crawl; cf. LG. krabbeln, D. krabbelen to scratch.]
- trumpets n.
- A plant (Sarracenia flava) with long, hollow leaves.
- strife n.
- The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
- insurgent a.
- Rising in opposition to civil or political authority, or against an established government; insubordinate; rebellious. [L. insurgens, p. pr. of insurgere to rise up; pref. in- in + surgere to rise. See Surge.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Mystic is in the public domain. This text is taken from Collected Poems: Volume One, Project Gutenberg ebook #30501; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Alfred Noyes, The Mystic, in Collected Poems, Volume One (1913), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #30501, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/noyes-collected/the-mystic.html, id L21399.
Form and metre
The Mystic is 53 lines in 9 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is AABCCB, complete in 8 of its 9 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%).
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABCCB roseA · closeA · gloomB · hemC · themC · tombB
- 2 AABCCB nightA · lightA · hateB · desireC · fireC · gateB
- 3 AABCCB helmedA · overwhelmedA · senseB · treesC · kneesC · omnipotenceB
- 4 AABCCB breathA · deathA · swordB · smoteC · throatC · lordB
- 5 AABCCB sightA · lightA · flowerB · eachC · speechC · hourB
- 6 AABCCB passA · brassA · allB · markC · darkC · crawlB
- 7 AABCCB hopeA · slopeA · doomB · strifeC · lifeC · tombB
- 8 AABCCB allA · fallA · breathB · wholeC · soulC · deathB
- 9 --A-A see · mystery · bleedA · hark · indeedA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| With wounds out-reddening every moon-washed rose | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| King Love went thro' earth's garden-close! | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| From that first gate of birth in the golden gloom, | 11 | ········/˘· |
| I traced Him. Thorns had frayed His garment's hem, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Ay, and His flesh! I marked, I followed them | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Down to that threshold of--the tomb? | 8 | ···/···· |
| And there Love vanished, yet I entered! Night | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And Doubt mocked at the dwindling light: | 10 | ···˘··/˘˘· |
| Strange claw-like hands flung me their shadowy hate. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| I clomb the dreadful stairways of desire | 11 | ···/˘/··˘/˘ |
| Between a thousand eyes and wings of fire | 11 | ···/˘····/˘ |
| And knocked upon the second Gate. | 9 | ··˘···/˘· |
| The second Gate! When, like a warrior helmed, | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| In battle on battle overwhelmed, | 10 | ·/˘·/˘·˘/˘ |
| My soul lay stabbed by all the swords of sense, | 10 | ·········· |
| Blinded and stunned by stars and flowers and trees, | 10 | /˘·····/·· |
| Did I not struggle to my bended knees | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And wrestle with Omnipotence? | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘˘ |
| Did earth not flee before me, when the breath | 10 | ·········· |
| Of worship smote her with strange death, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Withered her gilded garment, broke her sword, | 10 | /˘·/˘/˘··· |
| Shattered her graven images and smote | 10 | /˘·/˘/˘˘·· |
| All her light sorrows thro' the breast and throat | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Whose death-cry crowned me God and Lord? | 9 | ····˘···· |
| Yea, God and Lord! Had tears not purged my sight? | 10 | ·········· |
| I saw the myriad gates of Light | 9 | ···/˘˘··· |
| Opening and shutting in each way-side flower, | 10 | /˘·/˘····/ |
| And like a warder in the gleam of each, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Death, whispering in some strange eternal speech | 10 | ·/˘···˘/˘· |
| To every passing hour. | 8 | ·/˘˘/˘/˘ |
| The second Gate? Was I not born to pass | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| A million? Though the skies be brass | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And the earth iron, shall I not win thro' all? | 10 | ···/······ |
| Shall I who made the infinite heavens my mark | 11 | ·····/˘/˘·· |
| Shrink from this first wild horror of the dark, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| These formless gulfs, these glooms that crawl? | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Never was mine that easy faithless hope | 10 | /˘···/˘/˘· |
| Which makes all life one flowery slope | 9 | ·····/˘˘· |
| To heaven! Mine be the vast assaults of doom, | 10 | ·/····˘/·· |
| Trumpets, defeats, red anguish, age-long strife, | 10 | /˘˘/·/˘··· |
| Ten million deaths, ten million gates to life, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| The insurgent heart that bursts the tomb. | 9 | ·˘/˘····· |
| Vain, vain, unutterably vain are all | 10 | ·········· |
| The sights and sounds that sink and fall, | 8 | ········ |
| The words and symbols of this fleeting breath: | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Shall I not drown the finite in the Whole, | 10 | ·····/···· |
| Cast off this body and complete my soul | 10 | ···/˘·˘/·· |
| Thro' deaths beyond this gate of death? | 8 | ········ |
| It will not open! Through the bars I see | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| The glory and the mystery | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
| Wind upward ever! The earth-dawn breaks! I bleed | 10 | ·/˘/······ |
| With beating here for entrance. Hark, O hark, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Which is the Light of Life indeed. | 8 | ······˘/ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.