BEFORE THE THRONE

When on thy brow I gaze and in thine eyes —

Eyes heavy-laden with the soul's desire,

Not passion-lit, but lit with Heav'n' s own fire —

I have a vision of Love's Paradise.

Gazing, my trancèd spirit straightway flies

Beyond the zone to which the stars aspire;

I hear the blent notes of the white-wing'd quire

Around Immortal Love triumphant rise.

And there I kneel before th’ eternal throne

Of Love, whose light conceals him,— there I see,

Veiled in his sacred light, a face well known

To me on earth, now, yearning, bend o'er me.

Heaven's mystic veil, inwove of light and tone,

Conceals thee not, Belovèd,— I know thee!