The Secret Splendour

From the dark silence of the sod

 The hidden ecstasy of God

We venture to reclaim,

And in the dross of life unfold

 The mystery of spirit-gold

With magical song-flame.

On withering sorrow and frigid sleep

The banners of our beauty leap

In a blast of rapture! Eyes

That, dim earth-prisoners, vainly grope,

 Upkindled by our heaven-faced hope

Wander infinities.

When our exultant flute-lips play,

Upon each listening heart they lay

A spell of holy light

Which makes in high communion

 Moon-echo to the deathless sun

Beyond life's Maya-night.

Our tones of fathomless joy instil

A taste of the Ineffable—

Ours is the mystic urge

Of mighty mobile shining seas

Mirroring sky-eternities

In the revel of their surge!

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