O May I Join the Choir Invisible. | by George Eliot


Longum illud tempus, quum non ero, magis me movet, quam hoc exiguum.
Cicero, ad Att., xii. 18.

    O MAY I join the choir invisible
    Of those immortal dead who live again
    In minds made better by their presence: live
    In pulses stirred to generosity,
    In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn
    For miserable aims that end with self,
    In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars,
    And with their mild persistence urge man’s search
    To vaster issues.
                                       So to live is heaven:
    To make undying music in the world,
    Breathing as beauteous order that controls
    With growing sway the growing life of man.
    So we inherit that sweet purity
    For which we struggled, failed, and agonised
    With widening retrospect that bred despair.
    Rebellious flesh that would not be subdued,
    A vicious parent shaming still its child
    Poor anxious penitence, is quick dissolved;
    Its discords, quench’d by meeting harmonies,
    Die in the large and charitable air.
    And all our rarer, better, truer self,
    That sobbed religiously in yearning song,
    That watched to ease the burthen of the world,
    Laboriously tracing what must be,
    And what may yet be better,—saw within
    A worthier image for the sanctuary,
    And shaped it forth before the multitude
    Divinely human, raising worship so
    To higher reverence more mixed with love,—
    That better self shall live till human Time
    Shall fold its eyelids, and the human sky
    Be gathered like a scroll within the tomb
    Unread forever.
                                               This is life to come,
    Which martyred men have made more glorious
    For us who strive to follow. May I reach
    That purest heaven, be to other souls
    The cup of strength in some great agony,
    Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love,
    Beget the smiles that have no cruelty—
    Be the sweet presence of a good diffused,
    And in diffusion ever more intense.
    So shall I join the choir invisible
    Whose music is the gladness of the world.


Text from George Eliot, The Spanish Gypsy the Legend of Jubal and Other Poems, Old an New (Edinburgh/ London: W. Blackwood & Sons, 1870), p.458.
  • Bernard J. Paris, “George Eliot’s Religion of Humanity”, ELH Vol. 29, No. 4 (Dec., 1962), pp. 418-443, Article DOI: 10.2307/2871945, Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/2871945

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