 | The Prisoner of Love |  |
278
August 26 MY BELOVED
“I will seek him whom my soul loveth.”—Sol. Song iii. 2.
Still I can discern Him never
At the garish hour of noon,
Though I strive with all endeavour
For the Presence and the boon:
He is clouded and enshrouded
In the magic of the moon.
Yes, at winter time or vernal,
Does my Sweetheart the Eternal
God delight not in the day;
But when darkness drapes the light
With its mantle and its might,
He unfolds His perfect way.
At the garish hour of noon,
Though I strive with all endeavour
For the Presence and the boon:
He is clouded and enshrouded
In the magic of the moon.
Yes, at winter time or vernal,
Does my Sweetheart the Eternal
God delight not in the day;
But when darkness drapes the light
With its mantle and its might,
He unfolds His perfect way.
Then, if stormy be the weather
Or a stillness and its charms,
Happily we live together
Tangled in each other's arms;
Sweetly married, softly carried
Into regions beyond harms.
And I drink the inspiration
Of unbosomed revelation,
Through my inmost life and blood;
At the secret fount of things,
Mystic joys and murmurings,
Bathed within the cosmic flood.
Or a stillness and its charms,
Happily we live together
Tangled in each other's arms;
Sweetly married, softly carried
Into regions beyond harms.
And I drink the inspiration
Of unbosomed revelation,
Through my inmost life and blood;
At the secret fount of things,
Mystic joys and murmurings,
Bathed within the cosmic flood.
| The Prisoner of Love | |