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Our life is a holocaust of the Supreme.

If earth were all and this were not in her, Thought could not be nor life-delight's response: Only material forms could then be her guests Driven by an inanimate world-force.

All, even pain, was the soul's pleasure here; Here all experience was a single plan, The thousandfold expression of the One.

All the great Words that toiled to express the One Were lifted into an absoluteness of light, An ever-burning Revelation's fire And the immortality of the eternal Voice.

In this soar from consciousness to consciousness Each lifted tops to That from which it came, Origin of all that it had ever been And home of all that it could still become.

She carries their magician processes And the formulas of their stupendous speech, Till heaven and hell become purveyors to earth And the universe the slave of mortal will.

All's miracle here and can by miracle change. This is that secret Nature's edge of might.

All once impossible deemed could now become A natural limb of possibility, A new domain of normalcy supreme.

A mystic Form that could contain the worlds, Yet make one human breast its passionate shrine, Drew him out of his seeking loneliness Into the magnitudes of God's embrace.