Poems
THEME/S
O we must plunge to the Great Face behind
The myriad vanity of our mortal look.
Not in that house of mirrors, the small mind,
Dwells the Great Face. Never this glory took
Pleasure of glory. The golden eyes are blind
To their immortal preciousness: they find
Paradise through the deep discovery
Of their sweet self-forgetfulnesses by
The aching gaze of man which suddenly
Recalling them forgets for ever all ache!
Here lives a light that knows life's secret source—
Omniscience with no single shadow-break—
Yet here too is the thoughtless rain that pours
In crystal quavers deaf to their rich tone,
The hill dawn-crimsoning like some angel's birth
But dark to its own epiphany on earth,
The well-water sunk far from cool self-taste,
A sleeping sweetness, or the wonder-waste
Of emerald innocent of its green allure.
Divinity is quick flesh and vague stone,
Arms stretched in a lost attitude of trance,
Palpitant marble rapt in giving grace
Of radiant love to every tear-filled glance,
Perfection's breathing statue unconcerned
With the luminous line all ages come to adore:
Ever for others the white peace has burned!
A power beyond all lack, yet slave to a sigh
From lips that pray or to frail lifting hands—
Heart like the sun shining without demands—
Hunger which finds appeasement when void days
Of the world's hunger brim—God is intense
With bliss undying that would gladly die
If one time-creature's gold might never grey.
His splendour flows and flows with the same dense
Desire to every depth: He will not shrink
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From making His whole wine the desert's drink!
The abyss He built from His magnificence
That He might hurl into its vacant stare
His Being's heaven—of heaven unaware
Except when hurled below. How shall He stay
An inexhaustible love? God is immense
To have immensity to throw away!
7-6-48
Page 60
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