"I only would have leave to loose (In tears and blood if so He choose) Mine inward music out to use: "I only would be spent--in pain And loss, perchance, but not in vain-- Upon the sweetness of that strain; "Only project beyond the bound Of mine own life, so lost and found, My voice, and live on in its sound; "Only embrace and be embraced By fiery ends, whereby to waste, And light God's future with my past." The angel's smile grew more divine, The mortal speaking; ay, its shine Swelled fuller, like a choir-note fine, Till the broad glory round his brow Did vibrate with the light below; But what he said I do not know. Nor know I if the man who prayed, Rose up accepted, unforbade, From the church-floor where he was laid,-- Nor if a listening life did run Through the king-poets, one by one Rejoicing in a worthy son: My soul, which might have seen, grew blind By what it looked on: I can find No certain count of things behind. I saw alone, dim, white and grand As in a dream, the angel's hand Stretched forth in gesture of command Straight through the haze. And so, as erst, A strain more noble than the first Mused in the organ, and outburst: With giant march from floor to roof Rose the full notes, now parted off In pauses massively aloof Like measured thunders, now rejoined In concords of mysterious kind Which fused together sense and mind, Now flashing sharp on sharp along Exultant in a mounting throng, Now dying off to a low song Fed upon minors, wavelike sounds Re-eddying into silver rounds, Enlarging liberty with bounds: And every rhythm that seemed to close Survived in confluent underflows Symphonious with the next that rose. Thus the whole strain being multiplied And greatened, with its glorified Wings shot abroad from side to side, Waved backward (as a wind might wave A Brocken mist and with as brave Wild roaring) arch and architrave, Aisle, transept, column, marble wall,-- Then swelling outward, prodigal Of aspiration beyond thrall, Soared, and drew up with it the whole Of this said vision, as a soul Is raised by a thought. And as a scroll Of bright devices is unrolled Still upward with a gradual gold, So rose the vision manifold, Angel and organ, and the round Of spirits, solemnized and crowned; While the freed clouds of incense wound Ascending, following in their track, And glimmering faintly like the rack O' the moon in her own light cast back. And as that solemn dream withdrew, The lady's kiss did fall anew Cold on the poet's brow as dew. And that same kiss which bound him first Beyond the senses, now reversed Its own law and most subtly pierced His spirit with the sense of things Sensual and present. Vanishings Of glory with Æolian wings Struck him and passed: the lady's face Did melt back in the chrysopras Of the orient morning sky that was