Robert Crawford

1868 - 13 January 1930 / Australia

Mors Dei.

Methought I saw God dying, and
The millions round His bed;
And all in every planet knew
They'd pass when He was dead.
In a wan light He lay somewhere,
Where all was strange and dim,
And one by one each living thing
Felt the life leaving Him.
The fiercest creatures lost their power,
The brightest eyes grew pale;
A weakness spread through every star
Like a funereal tale.
Through Heaven and Hell a tremor passed;
The fiends and seraphim
Had hushed their cries and songs, and came
To share their doom with Him.
And o'er the Eyes that looked on all
A deathly glamour passed,
And He knew all that He had made
Was one with Him at last;
As with His final breath a boom
Crashed through the worlds, and He
Let go the awful stress He'd kept
On Life's immensity.
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