A PROSELYTE.

Heart of magnificent desire:

O equal of the lordly sun!

Since thou hast cast on me thy fire,

My cloistral peace, so hardly won,

Breaks from its trance:

One glance

From thee hath all its joy undone.

Of lonely quiet was my dream;

Day gliding into fellow day,

With the mere motion of a stream:

But now in vehement disarray

Go time and thought,

Distraught

With passion kindled at thy ray.

Heart of tumultuary might,

O greater than the mountain flame,

That leaps upon the fearful night!

On me thy devastation came,

Sudden and swift;

A gift

Of joyous torment without name.

Thy spirit stings my spirit: thou

Takest by storm and ecstasy

The cloister of my soul. And now,

With ardour that is agony,

I do thy will;

Yet still

Hear voices of calm memory.

1894.

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