…..

Time’s beating wing subsided, and the winds
Caught up their breathing, and the world’s great pulse
Stayed in mid-throb, and the wild train of life
Reeled by, and left us stranded on a hush.
This moment is a statue unto Love
Carved from a fair white silence.
Lo, He stands
Within us–are we not one now, one, one roof,
His roof, and the partition of weak flesh
Gone down before Him, and no more, for ever?–
Stands like a bird new-lit, and as He lit,
Poised in our quiet being; only, only
Within our shaken hearts the air of passion,
Cleft by His sudden coming, eddies still
And whirs round his enchanted motionlessness.

…..

Francis Thompson