TRANSCENDENCETo look on love with disenamoured eyes;To see with gaze relentless, rendered clearOf hope or hatred, of desire and fear,The insuperable nullity that liesBehind the veils of various disguiseWhich life or death may haply weave; to hearForevermore in flute and harp the mereAnd all-resolving silence; recognizeThe gules of autumn in the greening leaf,And in the poppy-pod the poppy-flow’r—This is to be the lord of love and grief,O’er Time’s illusion and thyself supreme,As, half-aroused in some nocturnal hour,The dreamer knows and dominates his dream.
To look on love with disenamoured eyes;To see with gaze relentless, rendered clearOf hope or hatred, of desire and fear,The insuperable nullity that liesBehind the veils of various disguiseWhich life or death may haply weave; to hearForevermore in flute and harp the mereAnd all-resolving silence; recognizeThe gules of autumn in the greening leaf,And in the poppy-pod the poppy-flow’r—This is to be the lord of love and grief,O’er Time’s illusion and thyself supreme,As, half-aroused in some nocturnal hour,The dreamer knows and dominates his dream.
To look on love with disenamoured eyes;To see with gaze relentless, rendered clearOf hope or hatred, of desire and fear,The insuperable nullity that liesBehind the veils of various disguiseWhich life or death may haply weave; to hearForevermore in flute and harp the mereAnd all-resolving silence; recognizeThe gules of autumn in the greening leaf,And in the poppy-pod the poppy-flow’r—This is to be the lord of love and grief,O’er Time’s illusion and thyself supreme,As, half-aroused in some nocturnal hour,The dreamer knows and dominates his dream.
To look on love with disenamoured eyes;To see with gaze relentless, rendered clearOf hope or hatred, of desire and fear,The insuperable nullity that liesBehind the veils of various disguiseWhich life or death may haply weave; to hearForevermore in flute and harp the mereAnd all-resolving silence; recognizeThe gules of autumn in the greening leaf,And in the poppy-pod the poppy-flow’r—This is to be the lord of love and grief,O’er Time’s illusion and thyself supreme,As, half-aroused in some nocturnal hour,The dreamer knows and dominates his dream.
To look on love with disenamoured eyes;
To see with gaze relentless, rendered clear
Of hope or hatred, of desire and fear,
The insuperable nullity that lies
Behind the veils of various disguise
Which life or death may haply weave; to hear
Forevermore in flute and harp the mere
And all-resolving silence; recognize
The gules of autumn in the greening leaf,
And in the poppy-pod the poppy-flow’r—
This is to be the lord of love and grief,
O’er Time’s illusion and thyself supreme,
As, half-aroused in some nocturnal hour,
The dreamer knows and dominates his dream.