ROSA IGNOTA
Into his silence; from the earth where he
Reigns in his silent, sunless dignity
One hope still blossoms, one last flower still blows
Upon the mystic earth, my Rose, my Rose,
XIV
THE BEGINNING
Rose of the gardens of old Babylon,
Red, scarlet Rose of fire in the breast of light :—
I had a dream of thee, my Babylon ;
Yea; all thy petals were crimson with delight:
And under the soft stars, the silent night
Grew deeper, deeper, till the heart o the world
Lay bare before me, with no robe to don
Save the lucent veil of spirit, argent-white ;
And then there came a voice: Arise! Smite! Smite!
Ere the portal of the temple may be won!
Crash down the walls! Lend all thy hidden might!
I, in the bosom of the deep impearled,
Cry from the cloud-place of the Underworld.
Let the gold banner of the day be unfurled
That. I may manifest the secret curled
In the darkling bosom of the world’s great night!
Then I arose in majesty, and came,
Spurning the loves of the world for thee, for thee,
For that my soul had quenched all meaner flame,
Than the flame that burned still for thy majesty!