1901 · CLOSE READING
The Soul of Osiris
The Soul of Osiris (1901), PDF p. 115
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THE HOLY OF HOLIES.
103
THE PALACE OF THE WORLD.
HE fragrant gateways of the dawn
Teem with the scent of flowers.
The mother, Midnight, has withdrawn
Her slumberous kissing hours :
Day springs, with footsteps as a fawn,
Into her rosy bowers.
The pale and holy maiden horn
In highest heaven is set.
My forehead, bathed in her forlorn
Light, with her lips is met ;
My lips, that murmur in the morn,
With lustrous dew are wet.
My prayer is mighty with my will ;
My purpose as a sword
Flames through the adamant, to fill
The gardens of the Lord
With music, that the air be still,
Dumb to its mighty chord.
I stand above the tides of time
And elemental strife ;
T
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