THE RAIN HAS held back for days and days, my God, in my arid heart. The horizon is fiercely naked-not the thinnest cover of a soft cloud, not the vaguest hint of a distant cool shower. Send thy angry storm, dark with death, if it is thy wish, and with lashes of lightning startle the sky from end to end. But call back, my lord, call back this pervading silent heat, still and keen and cruel, burning the heart with dire despair. Let the cloud of grace bend low from above like the tearful look of the mother on the day of the father's wrath.
LOVE, THOU hast made great my life with death's magnificence, and hast tinted all my thoughts and dreams with radiant hues of thy farewell rays. The tear-washed limpid light reveals at life's last sunset-point the hints of Paradise, where descending flame of Kiss from starry sphere of love lights the sorrows of our earth to splendour of their end, in one blazing ecstasy of uttermost extinction. Love, thou hast made one vast wonder Life and Death for me.