The Glory of thy Countenance unveiled
!
Thy face, O mother !
Splendour of the Gods
!
Behold
! amid the glory of her hair
And light shed over from the crown thereof,
Wonderful
eyes less passionate than Peace
That wept !
That wept !
O mystery of Love !
Clasping
my hands upon the scarlet rose
That flamed
upon my bosom,
the keen thorns
Pierced
me and slew!
My spirit was withdrawn
Into Her godhead, and my soul made
One
With the Great Sorrow of the Universe,
The Love of I sis !
Then I fell away
Into some old mysterious abyss
Rolling between the heights of starry space
;
Flaming above,
beyond the Tomb of Time,
Blending
the darkness into the profound
Chasms of matter—so I fell away
Through many strange eternities of Space,
Limitless
fields of Time.
I knew in me
That I must fall into the ground and die ;
Dwell in the deep a-many years,
at last
To rise again—Osiris, slain and risen !
Light of the Cross, I see Thee in the sky,
My future !
I must perish from the earth,
Abide in desolate halls, until the hour
When a new Christ must needs
be crucified.—
So weep I ever with Our Lady's
tears,
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