Page:Preludes, Meynell, 1875.djvu/84

Suffer your thoughts, abide.
Suffer, ye seven-fold tried.
Wild winds and storm, rejoice the peaks among;
Exult with timbrel, dance, and song,
Deafen that pain with jubilee.
Cloud answers cloud with thunder;
And eagle's voice to eagle's voice replies far under.
I cannot let you be,
My chosen, till your answer rise to me.
Suffer your great wild things; abide.
The secrets that in your abysses hide,
And in your desolate cold are sealed,
Gather in heaven and fall in tender rain
That thoughts of many hearts may be revealed,
These hearts that throng the plain.
Over your brows shall clouds abide,
Yours be the wildest winds, and vast suns open-eyed,
And crowning mists that hide
High fields of thoughts and sunlights after pain.
First Voice:
How shall we reach thee?
Level us with the plain,
Oh, we beseech thee.