39

If vision self-effacement bring,
The veil is a far better thing;
Thy trade hath little to entice
That doth require so great a price.

Now speak me clear: those days are gone
Of too rare condescension
When, as it was declared to us,
Such is thy will, and thus and thus.

The gaze was bold, it did not fail
To rend in twain high heaven’s veil:
If thou wouldst have a veil between,
Bring a new world upon the scene!

So high conceit is in thy heart
That, all unlacking as thou art,
Thou seekest yet, thy being to prove,
The blood of them that truly love.

One is the rank of servitude,
And one again of loverhood;
The Sons of light must needs adore,
The son of earth shall even more.

I will convert this dross I hold
By passion’s alchemy to gold,
That on the morrow I may bring
To thee thy wished for offering