Love

As yet the tresses of the bride of night were not familiar with their graceful curls; And the stars of heaven had tasted not the bliss of whistling motion through the depths of space.

The moon in her new robes looked rather strange And knew not revolution’s ceaseless law.

From the dark house of possibilities the world had just emerged to spin along, No joy of life had throbbed as yet within the furthest limits of immensity.

The order of existence scarcely had begun unfolding to perfectionment; It seems as if the world, like a ring whose socket waiteth for its precious stone, longed to evolve the archetypes to come.

They say there was an alchemist on high, Dust of whose footsteps sparkled even more than Jamshid’s crystal cup.

And on the pedestal of heaven there was engraved Elixir’s wondrous recipe, Which angels always guarded from the ken of Adam’s soul destined by it to live.

The alchemist was ever on the watch Knowing this recipe more precious than the Great Name itself.

Till seemingly saying his orisons, he nearer drew And gained the strictly guarded pedestal, his constant effort yielding in the end the fruit of his desire for which he burned

And having learnt it, he went forth to seek through the vast field of possibilities for its ingredients and collected them; Yea! what is there that can be hid from those who know the halls where truth for ever dwells.

From stars he took their brightness; from the moon the marks of burnt-out passions of the past; And from night’s floating and dishevelled tresses a little darkness

From the lightning he received its restlessness; and purity from houris; And the gentle warmth that runs rippling from healing breath of Mary’s son.

Then from the quality of Providence he took that splendour which dependeth not on aught else than itself, And from the dew and angels took he their humility.

Then in the waters of the spring of life he made them to dissolve; And from the Throne of Most High they called this essence “Love.”

That alchemist sprinkled this liquid on the new sprouting being, And its magic touch released the spell-bound process of the worlds.

Motion appeared in atoms; forthwith they abandoned their repose, And roused themselves embracing their affinities again.

The suns and stars rolled in majestic curves, The buds received fresh tints, and poppy flowers were branded with the burning marks of Love.