The Adventure of the Apocalypse

Unbirthed

Agrip is broken loose

Within my chest—

Titan steel jointures part

Their deep-grey rest

In some blind cosmic plan

Solidding night

To crypt the fire that is man,

To dungeon the height

His dreamful mind remembers . . .

With a shining start,

Suddenly rapture-russet,

A hammer is the heart!

Golden beat upon beat

Wounds the black room,

Like a burst of rhythmic suns

Through vaulted gloom.

Ruined is the house of birth,

Time's steel is scrap,

And where the Shadow brooded

Is a glowing gap.

Eagles of truth sweep down

With their prophecies,

Doves of divine desire

Wing up white cries.

An odour of mystery blows

Purpling the air—

Out of wide nothingness

To wide nowhere.

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And through the music and colour

Looks forth a Vast,

In its own self reposing,

The Calm that is first and last.

Infinity is a love

That never runs,

Present in every place

With the Silver Ones!

And all that is great or little

Is a single light,

Myriadly crystalling,

Then sinking from sight.

Dawning, Noontide, Even

Kiss and embrace,

Weaving to threefold beauty

A spirit space.

Ecstasies curve like clouds

And their smiles are seven

For the house built without walls

From blue-print of heaven.

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