The Adventure of the Apocalypse

Above, within

This hour of dusk

Thrills in my heart a cry for precious things:

How wilt thou please, O life with so small wings,

O thou great heap of straw and a grain of musk?

Over me reigns

The empire of a superhuman sleep

Precious with secret plenitudes that keep

A teeming twinkling infinite of musk-grains!

Breathes far away

That mystery measureless above all time.

Will ever the Vast wake even here a chime

Of heavenly gold transmuting common day?

Heart within heart—

Calls a wide garden sown in a mirrored sky,

Deep day of some divine world-soul with eye

On blossoming eye, dream-single though apart!

O roses, bright

With love of a calm space that is all sun!

O space of calm, miraculously one

With each rose by a limitless love-light!

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