Lo! the death-wall grows amain;
And in me triumphant pain
To and fro and outward goes
As I feel my coffin close.—­
Ah, alas, some beauties vanish! 
Ah, alas, some strength I banish! 
Maidens listening with a smile
In confiding eyes, the while
Truths they loved so well to hear
Left my lips.  Lo, they draw near! 
Lo!  I see my forehead crowned
With a coronal of faces,
Where the gleam of living graces
Each to other keeps them bound;
Leaning forward in a throng,
I the centre of their eyes,
Voices mute, that erst in song
Stilled the heart from all but sighs—­
Now in thirsty draughts they take
At open eyes and ears, the Truth
Spoken for their love and youth—­
Hot, alas! for bare Truth’s sake! 
There were youths that held by me,
Youths with slightly furrowed brows,
Bent for thought like bended bows;
Youths with souls of high degree
Said that I alone could teach them,
I, one of themselves, could reach them;
I alone had insight nurst,
Cared for Truth and not for Form,
Would not call a man a worm,
Saw God’s image in the worst. 
And they said my words were strong,
Made their inward longings rise;
Even, of mine, a little song,
Lark-like, rose into the skies. 
Here, alas! the self-same folly;
’Twas not for the Truth’s sake wholly,
Not for sight of the thing seen,
But for Insight’s sake I ween. 
Now I die unto all this;
Kiss me, God, with thy cold kiss.

[Sidenote:  "I dreamed that Allah kissed me, and his kiss was cold."]

All self-seeking I forsake;
In my soul a silence make. 
There was joy to feel I could,
That I had some power of good,
That I was not vainly tost: 
Now I’m empty, empty quite;
Fill me, God, or I am lost;
In my spirit shines no light;
All the outer world’s wild press
Crushes in my emptiness. 
Am I giving all away? 
Will the sky be always grey? 
Never more this heart of mine
Beat like heart refreshed with wine? 
I shall die of misery,
If Thou, God, come not to me.

[Sidenote:  Dead indeed unto Sin.]

Now ’tis finished.  So depart
All untruth from out my heart;
All false ways of speaking, thinking;
All false ways of looking, linking;
All that is not true and real,
Tending not to God’s Ideal: 
Help me—­how shall human breath
Word Thy meaning in this death!

[Sidenote:  How is no matter, so that he wake to Life and Sight.]

Now come hither.  Bring that tool. 
Its name I know not; but its use
Written on its shape in full
Tells me it is no abuse
If I strike a hole withal
Through this thick opposed wall. 
The rainbow-pavement!  Never heed it—­
What is that, where light is needed? 
Where?  I care not; quickest best. 
What kind of window would I choose? 
Foolish man, what sort of hues