—     15     — 
 
And light, shown ever as silence and deep night 
Secret as death and final.  Let me long 
Never again for aught !  This great delight 
Involves me, weaves me in its pattern of bliss, 
Seals me with its own kiss, 
Draws me to thee with every dream that glows, 
Poet, each word ;  maiden, each burden of snows 
Extending beyond sunset, beyond dawn ! 
O Rose, inviolate, utterly withdrawn 
In the truth :  —  for this is truth :  Love knows ! 
Ah !  Rose of the World !  Rose !  Rose !