Daily Whitman


The Mystic Trumpeter

  Blow again trumpeter! and for thy theme,
  Take now the enclosing theme of all, the solvent and the setting,
  Love, that is pulse of all, the sustenance and the pang,
  The heart of man and woman all for love,
  No other theme but love—knitting, enclosing, all-diffusing love.

  O how the immortal phantoms crowd around me!
  I see the vast alembic ever working, I see and know the flames that
      heat the world,
  The glow, the blush, the beating hearts of lovers,
  So blissful happy some, and some so silent, dark, and nigh to death;
  Love, that is all the earth to lovers—love, that mocks time and space,
  Love, that is day and night—love, that is sun and moon and stars,
  Love, that is crimson, sumptuous, sick with perfume,
  No other words but words of love, no other thought but love.


Posted on 24/07/2015, in literature, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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