Oscar Wilde
We are resolved into the supreme air,
We are made one with what we touch and see,
With our heart's blood each crimson sun is fair,
With our young
lives each springimpassioned tree
Flames into green, the wildest beasts that
range
The moor our kinsmen are, all life is one, and all is change.
With beat of systole and of diastole
One grand great life throbs
through earth's giant heart,
And mighty waves of single Being roll
From
nerveless germ to man, for we are part
Of every rock and bird and beast and
hill,
One with the things that prey on us, and one with what we kill
One sacrament are consecrate, the earth
Not we alone hath passions
hymeneal,
The yellow buttercups that shake for mirth
At daybreak know a
pleasure not less real
Than we do, when in some freshblossoming wood
We
draw the spring into our hearts, and feel that life is good
Is the light
vanished from our golden sun,
Or is this daedalfashioned earth less fair,
That we are nature's heritors, and one
With every pulse of life that
beats the air?
Rather new suns across the sky shall pass,
New splendour
come unto the flower, new glory to the grass.
And we two lovers shall
not sit afar,
Critics of nature, but the joyous sea
Shall be our
raiment, and the bearded star
Shoot arrows at our pleasure! We shall be
Part of the mighty universal whole,
And through all Aeons mix and mingle
with the Kosmic Soul!.
We shall be notes in that great Symphony
Whose cadence circles through the rhythmic spheres,
And all the live
World's throbbing heart shall be
One with our heart, the stealthy creeping
years
Have lost their terrors now, we shall not die,
The Universe itself
shall be our Immortality!.
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