The Secret Splendour

Moon-Worship

Like the bird

 Whose far melodious word

 Springs, magieal, out of the womb of dim delight,

My heart learns music only when the day's

 Dense veil of passionate clamour is withdrawn

And—Glory of Inviolable Grace!—

Your soothing miracles of dream-rumour dawn!

The immortal Mystery whose thought-fathomless

Splendour within I travail to express

Shines, mirrored, from the snow-pure countenance

Of your tranquillity,

That from the enormous altitudes of night

Quells the intransient feverish clay in me!

Might I create impeccable loveliness

Of death-defying soul-irradiance

Voicing your sanctity of silver trance—

A perfect statue by slow worship hewn

Out of your white revelatory silences, O moon!

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