[BNP/E3, 49A3 – 51]

Before I had thee the worst but half tears

The stream thou burnt has completed thee

Towards my longing. The impetuosity 

Of presence backwards of thy being the floor

|*Turmoil| of that very storm does cause

The fleshy contour[1] of this spiritual phase.

_______

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Brocken[2] outside thy portion in God’s wing

Myself but thou the parasite of the space

Between my thought of thee and the pale grace

Before it if thyself as thou I’m seeing.

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My thought of thou still crosses the storm, freeing

Each fact from mater as if for ever Place

There is never from us, child of a † race

With dreams, and into {…} of God agreeing.

[51v]

My thoughts are God’s contemporaries and date

To whom, in God, the abstract was concrete.

(The patter, over storms[3], of thy soft fact

Is in me relative to my fact).

So do I dream… Thy beauty’s e’er too late

At that feat of this that’s my thought’s feat.

(But thou hast caused to storm and it is met

That thy coeval, Love, should keep hold state).

_________

 
[1] contour /akin\
[2] Brocken /†\
[3] over storms /over the storms\