The Secret Splendour

There are two ways of bowing

To you, O Splendour sweet!

 One craves the boon of blessedness,

One gives the soul to your feet.

Pulling your touch to ourselves we feel

Holy and happy—we think huge heaven

Comes close with you that we may pluck

A redder dawn, a purpler even.

This is but rapturous robbery

Deaf to infinity's call

That we should leap and plunge in you

Our aching empty all

And, in the surge of being your own,

Grow blind and quite forget

Whether our day be a richer rose,

A wealthier violet.

Precious each moment laid in your hands,

Whatever the hue it bear—

A flame and fragrance just because

Your fingers hold it dear.

Make me your nothing, my whole life

I would drown in your vastnesses—

A cry to be ruled by your flawless touch,

 Your will alone my peace.

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