XII
Then closer, closer. No!—then stop—think well
What is this wonder we awake. Now think
We are cast down to the abyss of hell
Or tremble upon heaven's dizzy brink—
Which? All's the same. Go on. No—what is this?
Why dally? To the hilt! Ah mine, ah mine!
Kiss me—I cannot kiss you—kiss me! Kiss!
Oh! God! Oh God! Forgive me; I am thine.—
Horses and chariots that champ and clang!
The roar of blazing cressets that environ
The form that fuses in the perfect pang.
A blast of air thorough the molten iron—
One scream of light. Creating silence drops
Into that silence when creation—stops.
What is this wonder we awake. Now think
We are cast down to the abyss of hell
Or tremble upon heaven's dizzy brink—
Which? All's the same. Go on. No—what is this?
Why dally? To the hilt! Ah mine, ah mine!
Kiss me—I cannot kiss you—kiss me! Kiss!
Oh! God! Oh God! Forgive me; I am thine.—
Horses and chariots that champ and clang!
The roar of blazing cressets that environ
The form that fuses in the perfect pang.
A blast of air thorough the molten iron—
One scream of light. Creating silence drops
Into that silence when creation—stops.
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