II
Hail, hail! . . . Where the horizon fades and glows,
Last night I seemed to see you standing, Sweet.
Light mantled you from starry head to feet;
Aureoles bound your brows, pale flame on Snows.
Beloved,—in your hand you held a Rose,
No flower immortal, red as hearts that beat
For earthly love, nor know the winding-sheet.
Who loves, who has been loved, the Symbol knows!
As you came toward me, with the Rose, royal,
Faint heart took cheer;—cheeks wan with sullen grief
Grew bright with thought of Bliss beyond the Veil.
Nirvana holds no lover's heart in thrall.
I wear the Rose, a kiss, each crimson leaf
Warm with your lips. . . . Hail my Beloved! . . . Hail!
Last night I seemed to see you standing, Sweet.
Light mantled you from starry head to feet;
Aureoles bound your brows, pale flame on Snows.
Beloved,—in your hand you held a Rose,
No flower immortal, red as hearts that beat
For earthly love, nor know the winding-sheet.
Who loves, who has been loved, the Symbol knows!
As you came toward me, with the Rose, royal,
Faint heart took cheer;—cheeks wan with sullen grief
Grew bright with thought of Bliss beyond the Veil.
Nirvana holds no lover's heart in thrall.
I wear the Rose, a kiss, each crimson leaf
Warm with your lips. . . . Hail my Beloved! . . . Hail!
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