The Winged Beetle

1 ROSA COELI I ROSE of the World ! Ruby with blood from the bright veins of God Caught in the chalice of your heart, and pearled With dew at many a melting period When the amethyst lustre of your eyes dissolves The veil that hides your naked splendour From these infirm resolves And halting loves of your poor poet’s soul With radiance mild and tender, So that I see awhile the golden goal ! Yea ! all your light involves Me, me tenebrous, me too cold and base Ever to kindle to the maiden face (Three years my wife, three years of me unwon !) That would be mine, be mine, Were I but man enough To endure the rapture of that sudden sun The knowledge of your love, The assumption of me into that sweet shrine Whose godhead duly knows Only the one wind of the utmost heaven Through hyacinthine deeps Down from the sapphirine steeps