mless it was, being gold on gold,
And void--but with that complete Life
Where music could no wings unfold
Till lo, God smote the strings of strife!
"Myself unto Myself am Throne,
Myself unto Myself am Thrall
I that am All am all alone,"
He said, "Yea, I have nothing, having all."

And, gathering round His mount of bliss
The angel-squadrons of His will,
He said, "One battle yet there is
To win, one vision to fulfil!
Since heaven where'er I gaze expands,
And power that knows no strife or cry,
Weakness shall bind and pierce My hands
And make a world for Me wherein to die.

"All might, all vastness and all glory
Being Mine, I must descend and make
Out of My heart a song, a story
Of little hearts that burn and break;
Out of My passion without end
I will make little azure seas,
And into small sad fields descend
And make green grass, white daisies, rustling trees."

Then shrank His angels, knowing He thrust
His arms out East and West and gave
For every little dream of dust
Part of His life as to a grave!
"_Enough, O Father, for Thy words
Have pierced Thy hands!_" But, low and sweet,
He said "Sunsets and streams and birds,
And drifting clouds!"--The purple stained His feet.--

"Enough!" His angels moaned in fear,
"_Father, Thy words have pierced Thy side!_"
He whispered, "Roses shall grow there,
And there must be a hawthorn-tide,
And ferns, dewy at dawn," and still
They moaned--"_Enough, the red drops bleed!_"
"And," sweet and low, "on every hill,"
He said, "I will have flocks and lambs to lead."

His angels bowed their heads beneath
Their wings till that great pang was gone:
"_Pour not Thy soul out unto Death!_"
They moaned, and still His Love flowed on,
"There shall be small white wings to stray
From bliss to bliss, from bloom to bloom,
And blue flowers in the wheat;" and--"_Stay!
Speak not_," they cried, "_the word that seals Thy tomb!_"

He spake--"I have thought of a little child
That I will have there to embark
On small adventures in the wild,
And front slight perils in the dark;
And I will hide from him and lure
His laughing eyes with suns and moons,
And rainbows that shall not endure;
And--when he is weary, sing him drowsy tu