  Before this generous time Of Love in morning prime, He had long season stood Bound in a nightmare mood Of dense murk, rarely lit By Jack-o'-Lanthorn's flit And straightway smothered spark Of beasts' eyes in the dark, Mourning with sense adrift, Tears rolling swift. With o, for Sun to blaze Drying the cobweb-maze Dew-sagged upon the corn, With o, for flowering thorn, For fly and butterfly, For pigeons in the sky, For robin and thrush, For the long bulrush, For cherry under the leaf, For an end to grief, For joy in steadfastness. Then through his distress And clouded vision came An unknown gradual flame By silent hands controlled, Pale at first and cold, Like wizard's lily-bloom Conjured from the gloom, Like torch of glow-worm seen Through grasses shining green By children half in fright, Or Christmas candlelight Flung on the outer snow, Or tinsel stars that show Their evening glory With sheen of fairy story. No more, no more, Forget that went before! Not a wrack remains Of all his former pains. Here's Love a drench of light, A Sun dazzling the sight, Well started on his race Towards the Zenith space Where fixed and sure He shall endure, Holding peace secure. Now with his blaze He dries the cobweb maze Dew-sagging on the corn, He brings the flowering thorn, The fly and butterfly, And pigeons in the sky, The robin and the thrush, And the long bulrush, And cherry under the leaf, Earth in a silken dress, With end to grief, With love in steadfastness. |
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