Prokosch, Dr Frederic - Chosen Poems – Song IX
Type of Spiritual Experience
A description of the experience
The leafy evening rings her bells
All over Italy
And gently guides the scallop shells
Into their mother sea;
The gulls ascend the distant aisles
Of gold: and now no more:
It is like music that the miles
Recede along the shore.
The day must age, the twilight end,
The fountained years must fade,
These eyes, these arms, these lips descend
Into the loveless shade.
All eccentricities of mind
And torrents of desire,
The base, the buffeted, the blind
Accept the utter fire:
Yes, and the vigilance of hate
Survives, and there are none
Who know the calm, the cooling thought,
All, all are gone.
The wise stand motionless and white
Like lilies in the grove
While thieves creep softly through the night
To stab the hearts I love.