Art of Preserving Health, The - Part 5

O fair are freedom and victory!
The sweet sky rained with wings.
I was so happy that I seemed
Like one of those fair things.

For, as through still clear waters, fell
Dissolving phantoms white,
Like wavering dreams slow shaken down
From a great fount of light.

And sweetly, sweetly from my flesh
I felt the fetters slip.
With pennons fair on the blue air
I sailed, a white-plumed ship.

Onward I flew o'er seas so clear
That still my wraith below,
Like a mute pilgrimaging thought,
Inexorable did go.

There she who once in Chaos stood,
In the first battling night,
Bloomed silent in the burning air,
Like deeper light in light.

We linked our hands (as one they seemed),
We rose in wavering rings;
Two plumes fell down the glittering well;
We mounted on two wings.

Up, up we fared; the light flew back;
We saw the throne of God.
We stood upon the streets of Heaven:
Our joy rose and abode.

Then, wavering, we turned each to each,
Looked deep, and faltering kissed.
The watching hosts were silent as
A sea at morning whist.
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