The spirit of Denial, the spirit of Doubt,

The spirit of purity espied;

And unwittingly the warmth of tenderness

He for the first time learned to know.

Adieu, he spake. Thee I saw;

Not in vain hast thou shone before me.

Not all in the world have I hated,

Not all in the world have I scorned.

THE PROPHET.

Tormented by the thirst for the Spirit,

I was dragging myself in a sombre desert,

And a six-winged seraph appeared

Unto me on the parting of the roads;

With fingers as light as a dream

He touched mine eyes;

And mine eyes opened wise,

Like unto the eyes of a frightened eagle.

He touched mine ears,

And they filled with din and ringing.

And I heard the trembling of the heavens,

And the flight of the angels' wings,

And the creeping of the polyps in the sea,

And the growth of the vine in the valley.

And he took hold of my lips,

And out he tore my sinful tongue,

With its empty and false speech.

And the fang of the wise serpent

Between my terrified lips he placed

With bloody hand.

And ope he cut my breast with a sword,

And out he took my trembling heart,

And a coal blazing with flame

He shoved into the open breast.

Like a corpse I lay in the desert;