Poems (Cromwell)/Joy
For works with similar titles, see Joy.
JOY
How shall I make of joy discovery? For is it not an orbit that enspheresThe heart? Like misty heaven, as one nears, The circuit spreads; and like the flowing sea Whose waves evolve a scroll of mystery, Its vague development eludes the seers. It is a garment like the shrouding years,—A dusky shield, a cloudy canopy, Illumined by the soul that stands beneath. It must forever amplify, deploy, Give spirit space,—that's all I know of joy. It is a hovering defence, a sheath, In which the spirit comes to flowering, A folding and a cool enfolded wing.