THE FALL

From that warm height and pure,

The peak undreamed of out of heavy air

Rising to heaven more strange and rare;

From that amazed brief sojourn, exquisite, insecure;

Fallen from thence to this,

From all immortal sunk to mortal sweet,

To slow gross joys from joy so fleet,

Fallen to mere remembrance of unsustainable bliss....

O harsh, O heavy air,

Difficult endurance, pain of common things!

The slow sun east to westward swings,

The flat-faced moon climbs labouring with a senseless stare.

From that inconceivable height ——

O inward eyes that saw and ears that heard,

Spiritual swift wings that stirred

In that warm-flushing air and unendurable light;

When I was as mere down

On a swift-running youthful wind uptaken

Over tall trees, white mountains, shaken,

Into the uttermost azure lifted, lifted alone.

From that peak can it be

That I am fallen, fallen that was so high?

Or was that truly, surely I?

Who is it crawls here now, sad, uncontentedly?

Fallen from that high content,

— Fool, thou that wast content merely with bliss!

Happy those lovers that will not kiss;

Never to be fulfilled was the heart's endless passion meant.

Never on joys attainable

To linger, never on easy near delight —

O bitter, unreached infinite,

Merciful defeat, availless anguish, hunger unendurable!

O who shall be in longing wise,

Skilled in refusal, in embracing free,

Glad with earth's innocent ecstasy,

Yet all the uncomprehended heaven in his eyes!