 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
I leaned, long lacking sleep, to a lúminous cliff;
With throbbing heart, and trembling évery limb:
All thought suspended, happy seemed their case;
That sleep, that rest, just spirits, in Underworlds Dark.
Their lives' pains ceased, their fleshly sojourn past.
With throbbing heart, and trembling évery limb:
All thought suspended, happy seemed their case;
That sleep, that rest, just spirits, in Underworlds Dark.
Their lives' pains ceased, their fleshly sojourn past.
Till called me tó rememberance Herthas Voice:
Bidding me rouse, be óf good cheer; and taste,
To souls refreshing, of the Muses cup;
Wherein should spring ambrosia, of itself.
I bare this in a wallet, with Merlins glass.
Bidding me rouse, be óf good cheer; and taste,
To souls refreshing, of the Muses cup;
75
I bare this in a wallet, with Merlins glass.
With aspiration then, to Stars of heaven;
I took it forth. When óf that sprinkling sap;
Ghostly not earthly, as blood is of the grape,
I had tasted: I perceived new vital warmth,
To come again, and díffuse through my being:
And faded from my limbs, their stony frost.
Sith with that chrism, anointed my bruised feet:
They too were healed, of long way-weariness.
So that when bade the Voice us to remove,
I also ready was.
I took it forth. When óf that sprinkling sap;
Ghostly not earthly, as blood is of the grape,
I had tasted: I perceived new vital warmth,
To come again, and díffuse through my being:
And faded from my limbs, their stony frost.
Sith with that chrism, anointed my bruised feet:
They too were healed, of long way-weariness.
So that when bade the Voice us to remove,
I also ready was.
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |