Moonchild

Beholding all, with eyes whose flashes flood The veins of their own universe with blood; Absorbing all, each myriad mouth aflame To utter the unutterable Name That calls all souls, the greatest and the least, To the unimaginable marriage-feast; And, in the self-same sacrament, is stirred To recreate their essence with a Word; This All, this Sire and Lord of All, abides Behind the unbounded torrent of Its tides, [285] In silence of all deed, or word, or thought, So that we name It not, or name It Naught. This is the Truth behind the lie called God; This blots the heavens, and indwells the clod. This is the centre of all spheres, the flame In men and stars, the Soul behind the name, The spring of Life, the axle of the Wheel, All-mover, yet the One Thing immobile. Adore It not, for It adoreth thee, The shadow-shape of Its eternity. Lift up thyself! be strong to burst thy bars! For lo! thy stature shall surpass the stars." Cyril put away his book. "Language," said he, "has been developed from its most primitive sources by persons so passionately concentrated upon the Ideal of selling cheese without verbal infelicity that some other points have necessarily been neglected. One cannot put mystic experience into words. One can at best describe phenomena with a sort of cold and wooden accuracy, or suggest ecstasy by very vagueness. You know that line 'O windy star blown sideways up the sky!' It means nothing, if you analyse it; but it gives the idea of something, though one could never say what. What you saw, my beloved Iliel, bears about the same ratio to what I have said as what I have said does to what Sister Clara saw: or, rather, was. Moral: when Sister turns we all turn. I have now apologized, though inadequately, for inflicting my bad verses upon you; which will conclude the entertainment for this morning. Brother Onofrio will now take up the collection. He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord; details of rate of interest and security on