Mortals, that behold a Woman, Rising 'twixt the Moon and Sun;
Who am I the heavens assume? an All am I, and I am one.
Multitudinous ascend I, Dreadful as a battle arrayed,
For I bear you whither tend I; Ye are I: be undismayed!
I, the Ark that for the graven Tables of the Law was made;
Man's own heart was one, one Heaven, Both within my womb were laid. For there Anteros with Eros Heaven with man conjoin-ed was,-- Twin-stone of the Law,
Ischyros, Agios Athanatos.
I, the flesh-girt Paradises Gardenered by the Adam new,
Daintied o'er with sweet devices Which He loveth, for He grew.
I, the boundless strict savannah Which God's leaping feet go through;
I, the heaven whence the Manna, Weary Israel, slid on you! He the Anteros and Eros, I the body,
He the Cross; He upbeareth me,
Ischyros, Agios Athanatos!
I am Daniel's mystic Mountain, Whence the mighty stone was rolled;
I am the four Rivers' fountain, Watering Paradise of old;
Cloud down-raining the Just One am, Danae of the Shower of Gold;
I the Hostel of the Sun am; He the Lamb, and I the Fold. He the Anteros and Eros, I the body,
He the Cross; He is fast to me,
Ischyros, Agios Athanatos!
I, the presence-hall where Angels Do enwheel their plac-ed King--Even my thoughts which, without change else, Cyclic burn and cyclic sing.
To the hollow of Heaven transplanted, I a breathing Eden spring,
Where with venom all outpanted Lies the slimed Curse shrivelling. For the brazen Serpent clear on That old fang-ed knowledge shone; I to Wisdom rise,
Ischyron, Agion Athanaton!
See in highest heaven pavilioned Now the maiden Heaven rest,
The many-breasted sky out-millioned By the splendours of her vest.
Lo, the Ark this holy tide is The un-handmade Temple's guest,
And the dark Egyptian bride is Whitely to the Spouse-Heart prest! He the Anteros and Eros, Nail me to Thee, sweetest Cross! He is fast to me,
Ischyros, Agios Athanatos!'Tell me, tell me,
O Belov-ed, Where Thou dost in mid-day feed!
For my wanderings are reprov-ed, And my heart is salt with need.''Thine own self not spellest God in, Nor the lisping papyrus reed?
Follow where the flocks have trodden, Follow where the shepherds lead.' He, the Anteros and Eros, Mounts me in
Egyptic car, Twin-yoked; leading me,
Ischyros, Trembling to the untempted Far.'Make me chainlets, silvern, golden, I that sow shall surely reap;
While as yet my Spouse is holden Like a Lion in mountained sleep.''Make her chainlets, silvern, golden, She hath sown and she shall reap;
Look up to the mountains olden, Whence help comes with lioned leap.' By what gushed the bitter Spear on, Pain, which sundered, maketh one; Crucified to Him,
Ischyron, Agion Athanaton!
Then commanded and spake to me He who framed all things that be;
And my Maker entered through me, In my tent His rest took He.
Lo!
He standeth,
Spouse and Brother; I to Him, and He to me,
Who upraised me where my mother Fell, beneath the apple-tree. Risen 'twixt Anteros and Eros, Blood and Water,
Moon and Sun, He upbears me,
He Ischyros, I bear Him, the Athanaton!
Where is laid the Lord arisen? In the light we walk in gloom;
Though the sun has burst his prison, We know not his biding-room.
Tell us where the Lord sojourneth, For we find an empty tomb.'Whence He sprung, there He returneth, Mystic Sun,--the Virgin's Womb.' Hidden Sun,
His beams so near us, Cloud enpillared as He was From of old, there He,
Ischyros, Waits our search,
Athanatos.
Who will give Him me for brother, Counted of my family,
Sucking the sweet breasts of my Mother?-- I His flesh, and mine is He;
To my Bread myself the bread is, And my Wine doth drink me: see,
His left hand beneath my head is, His right hand embraceth me! Sweetest Anteros and Eros, Lo, her arms He leans across; Dead that we die not, stooped to rear us, Thanatos Athanatos.
Who is She, in candid vesture, Rushing up from out the brine?
Treading with resilient gesture Air, and with that Cup divine?
She in us and we in her are, Beating Godward: all that pine,
Lo, a wonder and a terror! The Sun hath blushed the Sea to Wine! He the Anteros and Eros, She the Bride and Spirit; for Now the days of promise near us, And the Sea shall be no more.
Open wide thy gates,
O Virgin, That the King may enter thee!
At all gates the clangours gurge in, God's paludament lightens, see!
Camp of Angels! Well we even Of this thing may doubtful be,--If thou art assumed to Heaven, Or is Heaven assumed to thee! Consummatum. Christ the promised, Thy maiden realm is won,
O Strong! Since to such sweet Kingdom comest, Remember me, poor Thief of Song!
Cadent fails the stars along:- Mortals, that behold a woman Rising 'twixt the Moon and Sun; Who am I the heavens assume? an All am I, and I am one.
