Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate; And many Knots unravel'd by the Road; But not the Master-Knot of Human Fate. XXXV There was the Door to which I found no Key: There was the Veil through which I could not see: Some little talk awhile of ME and THEE There was--and then no more of THEE and ME. XXXVI Earth could not answer: nor the Seas that mourn In flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn; Nor Heaven, with those eternal Signs reveal'd And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn. XXXVII Then of the THEE IN ME who works behind The Veil of Universe I cried to find A Lamp to guide me through the Darkness; and Something then said--"An Understanding blind." XXXVIII Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn I lean'd, the Secret Well of Life to learn: And Lip to Lip it murmur'd--"While you live, Drink!--for, once dead, you never shall return." XXXIX I think the Vessel, that with fugitive Articulation answer'd, once did live, And drink; and that impassive Lip I kiss'd, How many Kisses might it take--and give! XL For I remember stopping by the way To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay: And with its all-obliterated Tongue It murmur'd--"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!" XLI For has not such a Story from of Old Down Man's successive generations roll'd Of such a clod of saturated Earth Cast by the Maker into Human mould? XLII And not a drop that from our Cups we throw On the parcht herbage but may steal below To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye There hidden--far beneath, and long ago. XLIII As then the Tulip for her wonted sup Of Heavenly Vintage lifts her chalice up, Do you, twin offspring of the soil, till Heav'n To Earth invert you like an empty Cup. XLIV Do you, within your little hour of Grace, The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace, Before the Mother back into her arms Fold, and dissolve you in a last embrace. [Illustration: QUATRAIN XX p. 90 [_Second Edition of the Translation_] The Palace that to Heav'n his pillars threw, And Kings the forehead on his threshold drew-- I saw the solitary Ringdove there, And "Coo, coo, coo," she cried; and "Coo, coo, coo."] [Illustration: QUATRAIN XLIV p. 102 [_Second Edition of the Translation_] Do you, within your little hour of Grace, The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace, Before the Mother back into her arms Fold, and dissolve you in a last embrace.] XLV And if the Cup you drink, the Lip you press, End in what All begins and ends in--Yes; Imagine then you _are_ what heretofore You _were_--hereafter you shall not be less. XLVI