The Secret Splendour

Breath of the boundless blue,

Throb of the perfect gold,

Poise of the peak that is purple.

Green wideness rapture-rolled—

Streak of new moon that trickles

Some immortality.

Trance-touch of stars like a love

Whose depth no man can see—

All these are felt by us,

Our aching eyes are called

To many a far wood-gloom

Fairily waterfalled—

Our trembling hand bares heaven

With a tiny stroke of the brush,

Or through the quill's faint quiver

 Eagles of ecstasy rush—

Wonders are all about,

Wonders well up within,

A gurgle sweeter than any name.

A deep unworded din.

Yet with so rich a scatter

Of moment-miracles,

A pang and a poverty

Darken our pulse.

O passing the paradises.

Till we have gone

Behind the myriad marvels

To the Marvelous One!

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Haphazard are the jewels

The brief hours bring.

Unless they hold together

On a timeless string.

A gap of gloom will ever

Haunt flashes of mere mind,

lire in some Whole of infinite fire

Our little flames go blind. 

How shall the unchanging bliss's

Ether be known,

If the gods who throng conceal

The God who is alone—

Single without a second,

The unbroken master-mood,

With no beyond to ache for,

The peace of penitude—

No fear of foeman's ambush,

Each hidden face

A deep of self-disclosure,

A secret of self -gaze!

Him must we find in the blue,

The gold, the purple, the green,

The silver and even the shadow—

 A light that is unseen!

One ray of Him can pierce

All mortal misery, And every lock of the universe

Shall open to this Key.

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