 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
Mother of Soul-religions, Asia, whence
Glad dawn, when night is passed, reverts to us.
'T is Thy Large Foster-Bosom, which at first,
Lent Spiritual Light, to Worlds West Parts.
Glad dawn, when night is passed, reverts to us.
'T is Thy Large Foster-Bosom, which at first,
Lent Spiritual Light, to Worlds West Parts.
Diviners, ín whom dwelleth an heavenly Breath,
Above the Wisdom of this World; (whereas,
Their lives'-long, wont mens feet in mire stick fast:)
Thy Seers, spake óf a Time-to-Come, unborn;
And witness bare of Heavens hid purposes;
Albe they oft prophecíed to thé Winds ears.
Above the Wisdom of this World; (whereas,
Their lives'-long, wont mens feet in mire stick fast:)
Thy Seers, spake óf a Time-to-Come, unborn;
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Albe they oft prophecíed to thé Winds ears.
Words of their mouths, were like to raindrops falling:
Drops, full of golden light, on a waste sand;
Which issue again as well-springs, hemmed around,
With healing herbs; whereof whoso doth taste,
Shall be refreshed.
Drops, full of golden light, on a waste sand;
Which issue again as well-springs, hemmed around,
With healing herbs; whereof whoso doth taste,
Shall be refreshed.
And therethrough many hearts,
In many diverse lands, be offered up
Unto heavenly Throne, and thé Great Power thereon:
Like those wild tears of sacred terebinths;
Which gather men adventurous, ín occúlt
Far-off Worlds solitudes and beyond all paths;
Stark mountain steeps, where Sun unhymned mounts forth:
Which fume sith, ón all altars of round Earth.
In many diverse lands, be offered up
Unto heavenly Throne, and thé Great Power thereon:
Like those wild tears of sacred terebinths;
Which gather men adventurous, ín occúlt
Far-off Worlds solitudes and beyond all paths;
Stark mountain steeps, where Sun unhymned mounts forth:
Which fume sith, ón all altars of round Earth.
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |