An invocation to the God
from The Last Oracle by Swineburne
 
 
"Yea, not yet we see Thee, father, as they saw Thee,
They that worshipped when the world was theirs and thine,
They whose whose words had power by Thine own power to draw Thee
Down from heaven till earth seemed more than heaven divine.
 
To the likeness of one God their dreams enthralled thee,
Who was wast greater than all gods that waned and grew;
Son of God the shining Son of Time they called Thee,
Who wast older, O our father, than they knew.
 
Old and younger gods are buried and forgotten
From the rising to downsetting of thy sun,
Risen from eastward, fallen to westward and forgotten,
And their births are many, but their end is one.
Diverse births of godheads find one death appointed,
As the soul whence each was born makes room for each;
God by God goes out, discrowned and disannointed,
But the soul stands fast that gave them life and speech.
 
Day by day Thy shadow shines in heaven beholden,
Even the sun, the shining shadow of Thy face;
King, the ways of heaven before Thy feet grow golden;
God, the soul of heaven is kindled with Thy grace.
 
As they knew Thy name of old time could we know it,
Healer called of sickness, slayer invoked of wrong,
Light of eyes that saw Thy light, God, king, priest, poet,
Song should bring Thee back to heal us with Thy song.
For Thy kingdom is not passed away,
Nor Thy power from the place thereof hurled;
Out of heaven they shall not cast the day,
They shall not cast out song from the world.
By song and the light they give
We know Thy works that they live;
With the gift Thou hast given us of speech
We praise, we adore, we besech,
We arise at Thy bidding and follow,
We cry to Thee, answer, appear,
O Father of us all, Paian, Apollo,
Destroyer and Healer, hear! "