The Mystic

Have I not know the sky and sea Put on a look as hushed and stilled As if some ancient prophecy Drew on to be fulfilled?

And would it be so strange a thing, Among the rainy hills of Spring A veritable god to see In luminous reality? To see him pass, as bursts of sun Pass over the valleys and are gone?

Have I not seen the candid street Grow secret in the blaze of noon, Swaying before the Paraclete Who weaves its being through his rune?

And would it be too strange to say I see a dead man come this way? Like mist the houses shrink and swell, Like blood the highways throb and beat, The sapless stones beneath my feet Turn foliate with miracle; And from the crowd my dead men come, Fragrant with yourth... and living mirth Moves lips and eyes that once were dumb And blinded in the charnel earth.

And I have dwlt with Presences Behind the veils of Time and Place And hearkened to the silences that guard the courts of grace, And I have dared the Distances Where the red planets race- And I have seen that Near and Far and god and Man and Avatar And Life and Death but one thing are- And I have seen this wingless world Curst with impermanence and whirled Like dust across the Summer swirled, And I have seen this world a star All wonderful in Space!