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THE storm that snapped our fate's one ship in twain
My soul could straightway tremble face to face
Would not my lonesome heart still sigh for thee
So do the mottled formulas of Sense
Glide snakewise through our dreams of Aftertime; So errors breed in reeds and grasses dense
That bank our singing rivulets of rhyme.
By Sense rule Space and Time; but in God's Land
Ah, there shall never come 'twixt me and thee
Our souls shall mingle, yet be featured clear,
Look down the shining peaks of all my days
So shalt thou see the heights and depths of praise
Of passionate snow, white-hot yet icy-clear,
Spiring the world's prismatic atmosphere; And I would make each night an awful vale Deep as thy soul, obscure as modesty, With every star in heaven trembling pale
O'er sweet profounds where only Love can see.
Oh, runs not thus the lesson thou hast taught?—
| When life's all love, 'tis life: aught else, 'tis naught.
Let no man say, He at his lady's feet
Lays worship that to Heaven alone belongs ;
Did e'er a lark with skyward-pointing beak
Crossing, the windage of each other's wings
O AGE that half believ'st thou half believ'st,
Half doubt'st the substance of thine own half doubt, And, half perceiving that thou half perceiv'st,
Stand'st at thy temple door, heart in, head out! Lo! while thy heart's within, helping the choir,
Without, thine eyes range up and down the time, Blinking at o'er-bright science, smit with desire
To see and not to see. Hence, crime on crime. Yea, if the Christ (called thine) now paced yon street, Thy halfness hot with His rebuke would swell; Legions of scribes would rise and run and beat His fair intolerable Wholeness twice to hell.
Nay (so, dear Heart, thou whisperest in my soul), 'Tis a half time, yet Time will make it whole.
Now at thy soft recalling voice I rise
Where thought is lord o'er Time's complete estate, Like as a dove from out the gray sedge flies
To tree-tops green where cooes his heavenly mate. From these clear coverts high and cool I see
How every time with every time is knit, And each to all is mortised cunningly,
And none is sole or whole, yet all are fit. Thus, if this Age but as a comma show
'Twixt weightier clauses of large-worded years, My calmer soul scorns not the mark: I know This crooked point Time's complex sentence clears. Yet more I learn while, Friend! I sit by thee : Who sees all time, sees all eternity.
If I do ask, How God can dumbness keep
While Sin creeps grinning through His house of Time, Stabbing His saintliest children in their sleep,
And staining holy walls with clots of crime?—
Had set them fair on heights they ne'er may scale?—
Thy Perfect stops th' Imperfect's argument.
By the more height of thy sweet stature grown,
I ken far lands to wifeless men unknown,
I compass stars for one-sexed eyes too fine. No text on sea-horizons cloudily writ,
No maxim vaguely starred in fields or skies, But this wise thou-in-me deciphers it :
Oh, thou 'rt the Height of heights, the Eye of eyes.