God knows you are as clean as the sea-gust
Uproarious round those poppied headlands high
Where huge green seas beneath, in billows upthrust,
Scatter snow-amethysts to the bright sapphire sky,—
Or music on which fusillade the hoof-beats by
Of screaming valkyr-steeds, to exalted strife!
You are love's seal and love's nobility,
And the burning flame, the aching flame of Life!
Therefore, transfigurer of the flesh,— clear-shining
Redeemer of the coinage passed for base,—
Strong flawless column, round which all vipers twining
Hiss out their venom and die on their disgrace,—
Oh radiant form, oh rapt victorious face
Of our dreams of love, toward whom all brave and true
Strain upward, seeking out your holiest place,—
This praise I raise, this praise I raise to you!