Someone broods there nameless and bodiless,
Conscious and lonely, deathless and infinite,
And, sole in a still eternal rapture,
Gathers all things to his heart for ever.
Calm yet shall release thee; an immense peace
and a large streaming of white silence,
Broad plains shall be thine, greenness surround thee,
and wharved cities and life’s labour
All my cells thrill swept by a surge of splendour,
Soul and body stir with a mighty rapture,
Light and still more light like an ocean billows
Over me, round me.
Not with one moment of sharp close or the slow fall of a dim curtain the play ceases:
Yet is there Time to be crossed, lives to be lived out, the unplayed acts of the soul’s drama.
To the lives sundered can Time bring rejoining,
Love that was slain be reborn with the body?
In the mind null, from the heart’s chords rejected,
Lost to the sense, but the spirit remembers!