The Sword of Song

PENTECOST 41 Out of a silver Tube a Dart Shooting God’s Spirit to her heart—61 This beats the orthodox Dove-Suitor ! What explanation could be cuter Than—Gabriel with a pea-shooter ? In such a conflict I stand neuter. But oh ! mistake not gold for pewter ! The plain fact is : materialise What spiritual fact you choose, And all such turn to folly—lose The subtle splendour, and the wise Love and dear bliss of truth. Beware Lest your lewd laughter set a snare For any ! Thus and only thus Will I admit a difference ’Twixt spirit and the things of sense. What is the quarrel between us ? Why do our thoughts so idly clatter ? I do not care one jot for matter, One jot for spirit, while you say One is pure ether, one pure clay. I’ve talked too long : you’re very good— I only hope you’ve understood ! Remember that “conversion” lurks Nowhere behind my words and works. Go home and think ! my talk refined To the sheer needs of your own mind. You cannot bring God in the compass Of human thought ? Up stick and thump ass ! Let human thought itself expand— Bright Sun of Knowledge, in me rise ! Lead me to these exalted skies To live and love and understand ! Paying no price, accepting nought— The Giver and the Gift are one With the Receiver—O thou Sun Of thought, of bliss transcending thought, Rise where divison dies ! Absorb In glory of the glowing orb Self and its shadow ! 755 760 765 770 775 780 785 790 Degradation of symbols. Es- sential identity of all forms of existence. Practical advice.