The Adventure of the Apocalypse

Grace

Lord of the lampless lonelihoods of drowse,

Speak your calm thunder that fills the dark with dreams,

Stand a black angel athwart a sky all sun,

Our shield of mystery against sudden power,

A shadow like a benediction falling

On every crest of the surge of human sight.

Then, shutting my lids, I would see through a thin night-haze

All the world's outlines framing prisoner souls:

Each jagged boulder a god who groans to no ear.

Gulfs of divinity would gape in me,

Calling the glittering peaks of thought to plunge

Head downward in those quiet wisdom-wells.

Deep and more deep the blinded puissances

Hurl to the womb of some sweet mother-space—

Then birth out like a swarm of birds that shine

And, with soft croon and effortless pinion-song

Breasting the eternal Blue that all things are,

Meet in the merciless sun the face of a friend.

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