Passion and pain, the outcry of despair, The pang of the unattainable desire, And youth's delight in pleasures that expire, And sweet high dreamings of the good and fair Clashing in swift soul-storm, through which no prayer Uplifted stays the destined death-stroke dire. Then through a mighty sorrowing, as through fire, The soul burnt pure yearns forth into the air Of the dear earth and, with the scent of flowers And song of birds assuaged, takes heart again, Made cheerier with this drinking of God's wine, And turns with healing to the world of men, And high above a sweet strong angel towers, And Love makes life triumphant and divine. |