Tannhäuser

For, from the confines of material space, The twilight-moving place, The gates of matter, and the dark threshold, Before the faces of the Things that dwell In the Abodes of Night, Spring into sight Demons dog-faced, that show no mortal sign Of Truth, but desecrate the Light Divine, Seducing from the sacred mysteries. But, after all these Folk of Fear are driven Before the avenging levin That rives the opening skies, Behold that Formless and that Holy Flame That hath no name ; That Fire that darts and flashes, writhes and creeps Snake-wise in royal robe, Wound round that vanished glory of the globe. Unto that sky beyond the starry deeps, Beyond the Toils of Time — then formulate In thine own mind, luminous, concentrate, The Lion of the Light, a child that stands On the vast shoulders of the Steed of God : Or winged, or shooting flying shafts, or shod With the flame-sandals. Then, lift up thine hands ! Centre thee in thine heart one scarlet thought Limpid with brilliance of the Light above ! 120