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The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse

… [feel the Spring, the all-devouring Dawa, Rash with my Rising. There, beyond the gol, The Veil is rent! Yes: let the veil be drawn, The Rose and the Cross UT of the seething cauldron of my woes, Where sweets and salt and bitterness I lung; Where charméd music gathered from my tongue, ‘And where I chained strange archipelagoes Of fallen stars; where fiery passion flows A curious bitumen; where among ‘The glowing medley moved the tune unsung Of perfect love: thence grew the Mystic Rose. Its myriad petals of divided light; Tits leaves of the most…