How should I rest in Paradise, Or sit on steps of heaven alone? 70 If Saints and Angels spoke of love Should I not answer from my throne: Have pity upon me, ye my friends, For I have heard the sound thereof: Should I not turn with yearning eyes, Turn earthwards with a pitiful pang? Oh save me from a pang in heaven. By all the gifts we took and gave, Repent, repent, and be forgiven: This life is long, but yet it ends; 80 Repent and purge your soul and save: No gladder song the morning stars Upon their birthday morning sang Than Angels sing when one repents. I tell you what I dreamed last night: A spirit with transfigured face Fire-footed clomb an infinite space. I heard his hundred pinions clang, Heaven-bells rejoicing rang and rang, Heaven-air was thrilled with subtle scents, 90 Worlds spun upon their rushing cars: He mounted shrieking: 'Give me light.' Still light was poured on him, more light; Angels, Archangels he outstripped Exultant in exceeding might, And trod the skirts of Cherubim. Still 'Give me light,' he shrieked; and dipped His thirsty face, and drank a sea, Athirst with thirst it could not slake. I saw him, drunk with knowledge, take 100 From aching brows the aureole crown-- His locks writhed like a cloven snake-- He left his throne to grovel down And lick the dust of Seraphs' feet: For what is knowledge duly weighed? Knowledge is strong, but love is sweet; Yea all the progress he had made Was but to learn that all is small Save love, for love is all in all. I tell you what I dreamed last night: 110 It was not dark, it was not light, Cold dews had drenched my plenteous hair Through clay; you came to seek me there. And 'Do you dream of me?' you said. My heart was dust that used to leap To you; I answered half asleep: 'My pillow is damp, my sheets are red, There's a leaden tester to my bed: Find you a warmer playfellow, A warmer pillow for your head, 120 A kinder love to love than mine.' You wrung your hands; while I like lead Crushed downwards through the sodden earth: You smote your hands but not in mirth, And reeled but were not drunk with wine. For all night long I dreamed of you: I woke and prayed against my will, Then slept to dream of you again. At length I rose and knelt and prayed: I cannot write the words I said, 130 My words were slow, my tears were few; But through the dark my silence spoke Like thunder. When this morning broke, My face was pinched, my hair was grey, And frozen blood was on the sill Where stifling in my struggle I lay.