Poems
THEME/S
Veilless Word
Mine be the veilless word,
Pure spirit grown!
No more in the mould of stone
Blindly bestirred
At the foot of the mountain-muse
Calling to its peak
The chasmed cries and hues
That wander and seek--
No more in the dusky bark
Built round dream-day,
Or even the quivering coat
Of bright and dark
Hungers for unseen prey.
To free the stainless note
Each swathe must fall aswoon;
Nor must the glorious skin
Whose passionate pores outbreathe
The splendoured soul within
Be left—the very last
Subtlest and gauziest sheath
Has keenly to be cast
Down if the hidden glow
Would bare the deathless tune
That lay like a floating moon
In the pool of night below!
Stripped of all vesture-sign
And symbol-robe,
Sheer sense of the Divine
Must burn and throb,
Etching with naked flame
The immortal summit-name
Whose heaven unheard
Awoke the abysm's word!
20.5.48
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