20
a last dream.
Making life poor to show how rich it is.
Round them heaven's flaming currents stoop and play,
And lap the stifling vapors of the world,
Till the space freshens into festal depths;
And Soul, before a royal mendicant,
Pensioned of flesh along her dusky way,
Goes forth with bounty to exultant crowds,
With pulse of music ordering the winds,
And trumpets blowing the eternal morn.
And so to guard from loss and blight of Time
The memory of such faith, and of a will
That thrilled our adamant from coast to coast,
This pale resplendent pillar of the frost.
Scores the dark, grasping air. But he who held
Within his eyes, the sacred fire that pierced
Our ancient mysteries, and laid them bare
Behind their five-fold barriers, afar
Wins smiles from other heavens, and breathes the meed
Of mighty toils—the insatiate sweet of rest."
Round them heaven's flaming currents stoop and play,
And lap the stifling vapors of the world,
Till the space freshens into festal depths;
And Soul, before a royal mendicant,
Pensioned of flesh along her dusky way,
Goes forth with bounty to exultant crowds,
With pulse of music ordering the winds,
And trumpets blowing the eternal morn.
And so to guard from loss and blight of Time
The memory of such faith, and of a will
That thrilled our adamant from coast to coast,
This pale resplendent pillar of the frost.
Scores the dark, grasping air. But he who held
Within his eyes, the sacred fire that pierced
Our ancient mysteries, and laid them bare
Behind their five-fold barriers, afar
Wins smiles from other heavens, and breathes the meed
Of mighty toils—the insatiate sweet of rest."
