There was a time when I was confident That God’s stupendous mystery of birth Was mine to know. The wonder of it lent New ecstasy and glory to the earth. I heard no voice that uttered it aloud, Nor was it written for me on a scroll; Yet, if alone or in the common crowd, I felt myself a consecrated soul. My child leaped in its dark and silent room And cried, ‘I am,’ though all unheard by men. So leaps my spirit in the body’s gloom And cries, ‘I live! I shall be born again.’ Elate with certitude towards death I go, Nor doubt, nor argue, since I know, I know!
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