Chapter XXII: Soul and Body

II

Sometimes the Soul in pure hieratic rule Is throned (as on some high Abbatial chair Of moon-pearl and rose-rubies beautiful) Within the body grown serene and fair: Sometimes it weds her like a lifted rood; But she endures, and wills no anodyne, For then she flowers within the mystic Wood, And hath her lot with gods--and seems divine: Sometimes it is her lonely oubliet, Sometimes a marriage-chamber sweet with spice: It is her triumph-car with flutes beset, The altar where she lies a sacrifice.-- Cold images! The truth is not in these. Both are alive, both quick with rhapsodies.