And so, He thought, in Mine own Image I Have made a man, remote from Heaven high And all its humble angels: I have poured My essence in his nostrils: I have cored His heart with My own spirit; part of Me, His mind with laboured growth unceasingly Must strive to equal Mine; must ever grow By virtue of My essence till he know Both good and evil through the solemn test Of sin and retribution, till, with zest, He feels his godhead, soars to challenge Me In Mine own Heaven for supremacy. Through savage beasts and still more savage clay, Invincible, I bid him fight a way To greater battles, crawling through defeat Into defeat again: ordained to meet Disaster in disaster; prone to fall, I prick him with My memory to call Defiance at his victor and arise With anguished fury to his greater size Through tribulation, terror, and despair. Astounded, he must fight to higher air, Climb battle into battle till he be Confronted with a flaming sword and Me. So growing age by age to greater strength, To greater beauty, skill and deep intent: With wisdom wrung from pain, with energy Nourished in sin and sorrow, he will be Strong, pure and proud an enemy to meet, Tremendous on a battle-field, or sweet To walk by as a friend with candid mind. --Dear enemy or friend so hard to find, I yet shall find you, yet shall put My breast In enmity or love against your breast: Shall smite or clasp with equal ecstasy The enemy or friend who grows to Me. The topmost blossom of his growing I Shall take unto Me, cherish and lift high Beside Myself upon My holy throne:-- It is not good for God to be alone. The perfect woman of his perfect race Shall sit beside Me in the highest place And be My Goddess, Queen, Companion, Wife, The rounder of My majesty, the life, Of My ambition. She will smile to see Me bending down to worship at her knee Who never bent before, and she will say, 'Dear God, who was it taught 'Thee' how to pray?' And through eternity, adown the slope Of never-ending time, compact of hope, Of zest and young enjoyment, I and She Will walk together, sowing jollity Among the raving stars, and laughter through The vacancies of Heaven, till the blue Vast amplitudes of space lift up a song, The echo of our presence, rolled along And ever rolling where the planets sing The majesty and glory of the King. Then conquered, thou, Eternity, shalt lie Under My hand as little as a fly. I am the Master: I the mighty God And you My workshop. Your pavilions trod By Me and Mine shall never cease to be, For you are but the magnitude of Me, The width of My extension, the surround Of My dense splendour. Rolling, rolling round, To steeped infinity, and out beyond My own strong comprehension, you are bond And servile to My doings. Let you swing More wide and ever wide, you do but fling Around this instant Me, and measure still The breadth and the proportion of My Will.