I have ransacked heaven and earth,
Hilarion, for gramarye
Of words to witness to thy worth.
For incense-clouds of poesy
I have ransacked heaven and earth.
God came, and Light and Love and Life;
The mystic Rose flowered fair and fain;
All skies ensphered the worshipped wife;
All failed in fragrance; all in vain
God came, and Light and Love and Life.
Jewels and snows and flowers and streams
Lent flashing beauties to my verse;
They are but phantoms fed on dreams
To thy reality—I curse
Jewels and snows and flowers and streams.
I sought for fancy's witch-device;
Arabian fable, Indian hymn,
Chinese design and Persian spice—
Besides thy truth how ghostly dim
Is fancy's bodiless witch-device!
I love the legends of the past;
Egypt, Assyria, Greece and Rome,
The Celtic rune, the saga blast—
Thou art the sea, and they the foam,
The lovely legends of the past.
In the heart's wordless exaltation,
The silence of the depth of things,
There only sobs mine adoration;
There only may I wave my wings—
Silence, and love, and exaltation
Heal thou my spirit, Sister of the Sun!
Sore wounded by the tusks of the boar Life,
Hurt by mine own spear in the sacred strife,
From five great gashes see the black blood run!
Mocked in my purple, scourged and spat upon,
Hither I bore my cross—the Hill uprears
Its skull-dome to the storm. They are not tears
That clot upon my cheek, Hilarion!
I gave mine spirit up into thine hands.
Still on that mountain of the Lord there stands
My crucifix. Four suns revolving roll
About my central sphere of radiance—
Oh miracle of thy one golden glance,
And honey of thy kisses in my soul!