| TO-NIGHT 1 I tread the unsubstantial way | |
| That looms before me, as the thundering night | |
| Falls on the ocean: I must stop, and pray | |
| One little prayer, and then—what bitter fight | |
| Flames at the end beyond the darkling goal? | 5 |
| These are my passions that my feet must tread; | |
| This is my sword, the fervour of my soul; | |
| This is my Will, the crown upon my head. | |
| For see! the darkness beckons: I have gone, | |
| Before this terrible hour, towards the gloom, | 10 |
| Braved the wild dragon, called the tiger on | |
| With whirling cries of pride, sought out the tomb | |
| Where lurking vampires battened, and my steel | |
| Has wrought its splendour through the gates of death | |
| My courage did not falter: now I feel | 15 |
| My heart beat wave-wise, and my throat catch breath | |
| As if I choked; some horror creeps between | |
| The spirit of my will and its desire, | |
| Some just reluctance to the Great Unseen | |
| That coils its nameless terrors, and its dire | 20 |
| Fear round my heart; a devil cold as ice | |
| Breathes somewhere, for I feel his shudder take | |
| My veins: some deadlier asp or cockatrice | |
| Slimes in my senses: I am half awake, | |
| Half automatic, as I move along | 25 |
| Wrapped in a cloud of blackness deep as hell, | |
| Hearing afar some half-forgotten song | |
| As of disruption; yet strange glories dwell | |
| Above my head, as if a sword of light, | |
| Rayed of the very Dawn, would strike within | 30 |
| The limitations of this deadly night | |
| That folds me for the sign of death and sin— | |
| O Light! descend! My feet move vaguely on | |
| In this amazing darkness, in the gloom | |
| That I can touch with trembling sense. There shone | 35 |
| Once, in my misty memory, in the womb | |
| Of some unformulated thought, the flame | |
| And smoke of mighty pillars; yet my mind | |
| Is clouded with the horror of this same | |
| Path of the wise men: for my soul is blind | 40 |
| Yet: and the foemen I have never feared | |
| I could not see (if such should cross the way), | |
| And therefore I am strange: my soul is seared | |
| With desolation of the blinding day | |
| I have come out from: yes, that fearful light | 45 |
| Was not the Sun: my life has been the death, | |
| This death may be the life: my spirit sight | |
| Knows that at last, at least. My doubtful breath | |
| Is breathing in a nobler air; I know, | |
| I know it in my soul, despite of this, | 50 |
| The clinging darkness of the Long Ago, | |
| Cruel as death, and closer than a kiss, | |
| This horror of great darkness. I am come | |
| Into this darkness to attain the light: | |
| To gain my voice I make myself as dumb: | 55 |
| That I may see I close my outer sight: | |
| So, I am here. My brows are bent in prayer: | |
| I kneel already in the Gates of Dawn; | |
| And I am come, albeit unaware, | |
| To the deep sanctuary: my hope is drawn | 60 |
| From wells profounder than the very sea. | |
| Yea, I am come, where least I guessed it so, | |
| Into the very Presence of the Three | |
| That Are beyond all Gods. And now I know | |
| What spiritual Light is drawing me | 65 |
| Up to its stooping splendour. In my soul | |
| I feel the Spring, the all-devouring Dawn, | |
| Rush with my Rising. There, beyond the goal, | |
| The Veil is rent! | |
| Yes: let the veil be drawn. | 70 |
