XV. 
Then thine abasement bringeth back the sheaves 
Of golden corn of exaltation, 
Ripened and sweetened by the very sun 
Whose far-off fragrance steals between the leaves 
Of the cool forest, filling every one 
That reaps yon gold 
With strange intoxications mad and manifold. 
 
XVI. 
Only beware gross pleasure—the delight 
Of fools : the ecstasy, the trance of love— 
Life's atom-bonds must strain—aye, and most move, 
And all the body be forgotten quite, 
And the pure soul flame forth, a deathless dove, 
Where all worlds end ! 
If thou art worthy God shall greet thee for a friend. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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