The Secret Splendour

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"Who knows the travail of my earthward vow—

 The self-subdued descension of my powers

For you, O man!--my daily death that dowers

 Life with immortal relish? Richly now

 The rooted trance of my perfection flowers

 Into strange-glowing rapturous agony

Of sacrificial fruit yearning to be

Plucked by the hungry hands of mortal hours!

Infinity was mine: enhaloed bliss:

Empire of timeless truth! And yet I bore

 In my heart's pinnacled ecstatic core

A dream to join your soul from the abyss.

Behold, at last I come your love to gain—

Eternal music wearing lips of pain!"

25.1.34

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