The Secret Splendour

AE

No fragile joy were those song-briefnesses:

 They brought our gloom a simple flowering grace.

 But laden with a breath of mysteries

 Rooted beyond the transience of our days.

For out of Spirit's spacious altitude

The silver rhythms floated unto man—

Each song the tiny-seeming giant mood

Of a world aglow in a far empyrean.

21.8.35 (first 6 lines)

16.4.92 (last 2)

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