[BNP/E3, 49A3 – 16v]

_______

O voice the angels kissed when unbreathed yet!

O lips made spiritual with uttering it!

O eyes wild with the lust of the divine

In thy {…} making thee its shrine!

O that this moment of thee were Thyself!

That thou ne’er fell'st from this Thou, and the pelf

Of gathered days with avarice of life[1].

Touched not thee from this moment of God's[2] giving!

O eternal actuality of thee!

O by thy voice sculptured immutably

In some stone‑flesh of spirit! O set free

From being all contained in being seen…

O firmament of joy, purely serene

With spaciousness of soul and stars of song

Above thyself for God gone fleshwards wrong[3].

 
[1] life /living\
[2] God's /thy\
[3] God gone fleshwards wrong /God's better dreams among\