XLIX

After grey vigils, sunshine in the heart;

After long fasting on the journey, food;

After sharp thirst, a draught of perfect good

To flood the soul, and heal her ancient smart.

Joy of my sorrow, never can we part;

Thou broodest o'er me in the haunted wood,

And with new music fill'st the solitude

By but so sweetly being what thou art.

He who hath made thee perfect, makes me blest.

O fiery minister, on mighty wings

Bear me, great love, to mine eternal rest.

Heaven it is to be at peace with things;

Come chaos now, and in a whirlwind's rings

Engulf the planets. I have seen the best.