To me no mortal but a spirit blest,
A Light-girt messenger of Love art thou—
The radiant star of Hope upon thy brow.
The thrice-pure fire of Love within thy breast!
Thou comest to me as a heavenly guest,
As God's fulfilment of the purest vow
Love's heart e'er made—thou com'st to show e'en now
The Infinite, th' Eternal and the Best!
I clasp thy feet,—O fold me in thy wings,
And place thy pure white hands upon my head,
And breathe, O breathe, thy love-breath o'er mine eyes
Till, like the flame that from dark ashes springs,
My chastened spirit, from a self that's dead,
Upon the wings of Love shall heav'nward rise.
II
THE CROWN OF LIFE
I know not what Love is,—a memory
Of Heav'n once known,—a yearning for some goal
That shines afar,—a dream that doth control
The spirit, shadowing forth what is to be.
But this I know, my heart hath found in thee
The crown of life, the glory of the soul,
The healing of all strife, the making whole
Of my imperfect being,—yea, of me!
For to mine eyes thine eyes, through Love, reveal
The smile of God; to me God's healing breath
Comes through thy hallowed lips whose pray'r is Love.
Thy touch gives life! And oh, let me but feel
Thy hovering hand my closing eyes above,—
Then, then, my soul will triumph over Death.
III
BEFORE THE THRONE
When on thy brow I gaze and in thine eyes—
Eyes heavy-laden with the soul's desire,
Not passion-lit, but lit with Heav'n's own fire—
I have a vision of Love's Paradise.
Gazing, my trancèd spirit straightway flies
Beyond the zone to which the stars aspire;
I hear the blent notes of the white-wing'd quire
Around Immortal Love triumphant rise.
And there I kneel before th' eternal throne
Of Love, whose light conceals him,—there I see,
Veiled in his sacred light, a face well known
To me on earth, now, yearning, bend o'er me.
Heaven's mystic veil, inwove of light and tone,
Conceals thee not, Belovèd,—I know thee!