Classic Poem

“Soft torrential wind
Falls through the vast, still deep
Like thick dreams pouring behind
The opened gates of sleep:
Ah, not so swift, Lord, not so bright,
Lest I be blown—a feather;
Not so white, not so white,
Lest I be withered altogether.

“Earth shifts under my feet,
Glory breaks over my head;
Speechlessly my wings I beat,
And fall mute in breathless dread:
Ah, not so swift, Lord, not so bright.
Lest I be blown—a feather;
Not so white, not so white,
Lest I be wilted altogether.”

“Mine is a heavenly Lover,
In Him I am wholly blest;
My heart it is His coffer
Wherein His gold doth rest.

“Dead in the metal tower
I lie till night doth come,
When in a golden shower
He bursts the midnight dome.

“And, caught beyond releasing,I yield me to His claim,
And by my creature ceasing
All that He is I am.”