XLIV.
SPIRITUS SPONSA.
As though, fast-borne the hills along,
At dawn some shepherd girl or boy
Should wrestle with the lark in song
And, shaft for shaft, retort his joy,
So walked, the hills of Truth above,
The Bride Elect, the sinless Maid;
So, challenged by the all-heavenly Love
The all-heavenly Lover's voice repaid.
From zenith heights incessant fell
On her His Grace like sunny rain:
Unvanquished and invincible
Her heart repaid that golden grain.
Perchance, in many an instant gleam
She caught, unscorched and unabashed,
That vision of the Face supreme
Which on her first-born spirit flashed!
Diseased are we: the infectious fire
Corrupts our life-blood from our birth:
She, she was like the unfallen Sire,
Compacted out of virgin earth.
In God she lived: His world she trod:
Saw Him and His; saw nought beside—
He only lives who lives in God:
That hour when Adam fell, he died.
