THE NEW WINE
299
Ah !
O in the silence, in the dark ,
In the intangible , unperfumed
,
Ingust abyss, abide and mark
The mind's magnificence assumed
In the soul's splendour ! Here is peace ;
Here earneșt of assured release .
Here is the formless
all
pervading
Spirit
of
the World
,
rising
,
fading
Into
a
glory subtler still
.
Here the intense
abode of Will
Closes
its
gates
,
and
in
the hall
Is
solemn
sleep
of
festival
.
Peace
!
Peace
!
Silence
of
peace
!
O
visionless abode
!
Cease
!
Cease
!
Through
the dark veil pass
on
!
The veil
Is
rent asunder
,
the stars pale
,
The suns vanish
,
the moon drops
,
The chorus
of
the spirit stops
,
But one note swells
.
Mightiest souls
Of bard and music
-
maker
,
rolls
Over your loftiest crowns the wheel
Of that abiding bliss
.
Life flees
Down corridors of centuries
Pillar
by
pillar
,
and
is
lost
.
Life after life
in
wild appeal
Cries
to
the master
;
he remains
And thinks not
.
The polluting tides
Of sense roll shoreward
.
Arid plains
Of wave
-
swept sea confront me
.
Nay
!
Looms yet the glory through the grey
,
And
in
the darkest hours
of
youth
I
yet perceive the essential
truth
,
Know
as
I
know my consciousness
,
That all division's hosts confess
A
master
,
for
I
know and see
The absolute identity
Of the beholder and the vision
.'
1
The Sword
of
Song
,
Pentecost
,
vol
.
I,
pp
.
175-176
.