PASSION
PASSION
Alllife from passion springs.In holy ecstasy’Midst whir of angel-wings,Did God decreeThe golden stars that shine:The flaming morn,And that this flesh of mineShould once be born.And all the works of menThat live indeed:Joyance of sword or pen,High thought or deed,Are in such primal fashionContrived and wrought.God grant me fire of thoughtTo work Thy will—with Passion!
Alllife from passion springs.In holy ecstasy’Midst whir of angel-wings,Did God decreeThe golden stars that shine:The flaming morn,And that this flesh of mineShould once be born.And all the works of menThat live indeed:Joyance of sword or pen,High thought or deed,Are in such primal fashionContrived and wrought.God grant me fire of thoughtTo work Thy will—with Passion!
Alllife from passion springs.In holy ecstasy’Midst whir of angel-wings,Did God decreeThe golden stars that shine:The flaming morn,And that this flesh of mineShould once be born.
Alllife from passion springs.
In holy ecstasy
’Midst whir of angel-wings,
Did God decree
The golden stars that shine:
The flaming morn,
And that this flesh of mine
Should once be born.
And all the works of menThat live indeed:Joyance of sword or pen,High thought or deed,Are in such primal fashionContrived and wrought.God grant me fire of thoughtTo work Thy will—with Passion!
And all the works of men
That live indeed:
Joyance of sword or pen,
High thought or deed,
Are in such primal fashion
Contrived and wrought.
God grant me fire of thought
To work Thy will—with Passion!