The Symbolist

Help me to seek that unknown land!
I kneel before the shrine.
Help me to feel the hidden hand
That ever holdeth mine.

I kneel before the Word, I kneel
Before the Cross of flame
I cry, as thro’ the gloom I steal,
The glory of the Name.

Help me to mourn, and I shall love;
What grief is like to mine?
Crown me with thorn, the stars above
Shall in the circlet shine!

The Temple opens wide: none sees
The love, the dream, the light!
O, blind and finite, are not these
Blinding and infinite?

The veil, the veil is rent: the skies
Are white with wings of fire,
Where victim souls triumphant rise
In torment of desire.

Help me to seek: I would not find,
For when I find I know
I shall have clasped the hollow wind
And built a house of snow.