What sudden sloughing of the universe,
Blissful annihilation of the stars,
In what restoring depths will death immerse
These sons of God that bear creation's scars.
Buoyant with what new grace of wingèd feet,
Moving with what new ecstasy of sense,
Will they explore in heady courses fleet,
Untrammeled, these aerial continents.
How shall they cry aloud in poignant joy,
And how aspire unweighted by despair,
And intercede in love without alloy,
And plead with God in crystalline, sweet prayer.
O dear and pitiable multitude
So travailing on the very brink of Life,
Expect the chrysalis-change whereof the prophetic mood
Speaks with appalling sweetness here amid the ephemeral strife.
Oxford, February 1922.
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