Rosa Mundi

— 5 — Caught in the glamour of the sun, Thought all the woe well won. How hours were days, and all the misery Abode, all mine : O thou ! didst thou regret ? Wast thou asleep as I ? Didst thou not love me yet ? For, know ! the moon is not the moon until She hath the knowledge to fulfil Her music, till she know herself the moon. So thou, so I ! The stone unhewn, Foursquare, the sphere, of human hands immune, Was not yet chosen for the corner-piece And key-stone of the Royal Arch of Sex ; Unsolved the ultimate x ; The virginal breeding breeze Was yet of either unstirred ; Unspoken the Great Word. Then on a sudden, we knew. From deep to deep Reverberating, lightning unto lightning Across the sundering brightening Abyss of sorrow’s sleep, There shone the sword of love, and stuck, and clove The intolerable veil, The woven chain of mail Prudence self-called, and folly known to who May know. Then, O sweet drop of dew, Thy limpid light rolled over and was lost