180 MYSTERIES:
“PERFECT LOVE CASTETH OUT
FEAR.”
NGLAND is dreary. In the ashen sky
I see no sign that sun will break again,
And force the clouds to yield their rapid rain,
And utterly absorb our misery.
Dull as the day is, in my heart I feel
An anguish, chill and adamant as steel,
And, like a mist of poison, heavily
On my whole soul, bound down upon the wheel, _
There comes a spectre, dead, whose name is Fear.
Ah God, he comes so near!
In the pale fear of Death I have no share.
I am through Love triumphant over him ;
I almost yearn toward the stooping brim,
And fledge the wings my soul is given to wear,
And float in sunlight to the dome above,
Clothed in the light of everlasting Love,
Till an archangel from the golden stair
Trumpet me out a welcome, and a dove
With fiery feet and silver kisses come
To bid me enter home.