The Christ-sword by George William Russell
THE WHILE my mad brain whirled around She only looked with eyes elate Immortal love at me. I found How deep the glance of love can wound, How cruel pity is to hate.
I was begirt with hostile spears: My angel warred in me for you Whose gentle calmness all too fierce Made unseen lightnings to pierce My heart that dripped with ruddy dew.
I know how on the final day The hosts of darkness meet with death: The angels with their love shall slay, Flowing to meet the dark array With terrible yet tender breath.
|