THE BEATIFIC VISION

     
     
           Then Bernard smiled at me, that I should gaze
         But I had gazed already; caught the view,
     Faced the unfathomable ray of rays
         Which to itself and by itself is true.
           Then was my vision mightier than man's speech;
         Speech snapt before it like a flying spell;
     And memory and all that time can teach
         Before that splendid outrage failed and fell.
           As when one dreameth and remembereth not
         Waking, what were his pleasures or his pains,
     With every feature of the dream forgot,
         The printed passion of the dream remains:—
           Even such am I; within whose thoughts resides
         No picture of that sight nor any part
     Nor any memory: in whom abides
         Only a happiness within the heart,
           A secret happiness that soaks the heart
         As hills are soaked by slow unsealing snow,
     Or secret as that wind without a chart
         Whereon did the wild leaves of Sibyl go.
           O light uplifted from all mortal knowing,
         Send back a little of that glimpse of thee.
     That of its glory I may kindle glowing
         One tiny spark for all men yet to be.