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liber963

i The Chapter known as

i The Chapter known as The Twelvefold Rejoicing of God and the Unity thereof s s s s s I s s s s s s s s s s adore s s s s s s s s s Thee by the s s s s s s s s Twelve Rejoicings s s s s s s s s and by the Unity thereof s s s s 1. Ah! but I rejoice in Thee, O Thou my God; Thou seven-rayed rainbow of perfect loveliness; Thou light-rolling chariot of sunbeams; Thou fragrent scent of the passing storm: Yea, I rejoice in Thee, Thou breath of the slumbering valleys; O Thou low-murmering ripple of the ripe cornfields! I rejoice, yea, I shout with gladness! till. as the mingling blushes of day and night, my song weaveth the joys of life into a gold and purple Crown, for the Glory and Splendour of Thy Name. 2. Ah! but I rejoice in Thee, O Thou my God; Thou zigzagged effulgence of the burning stars; Thou wilderment of indigo light; Thou grey horn of immaculate fire: Yea, I rejoice in Thee, Thou embattled cloud of flashing flame; O Thou capricious serpent-head of scarlet hair! I rejoice, yea, I shout with gladness! till my roaring filleth 36

THE TREASURE-HOUSE OF IMAGES the wooded mountains, and like a giant forceth the wind’s head through the struggling trees, in the Glory and Splendour of Thy Name. 3. Ah! but I rejoice in Thee, O Thou my God; Thou silken web of emerald bewitchement; Thou berylline mist of marshy meers; Thou flame-spangled fleece of seething gold: Yea, I rejoice in Thee, Thou pearly dew of the setting moon; O Thou dark purple storm-cloud of contending kisses! I rejoice, yea, I shout with gladness! till all my laughter, like enchaunted waters, is blown as an iris-web of bubbles from the lips of the deep, in the Glory and Splendour of Thy Name. 4. Ah! but I rejoice in Thee, O Thou my God; Thou who broodeston the dark breasts of the deep; Thou lap of the wave-glittering sea; Thou bright vesture of the crested floods: Yea, I rejoice in Thee, Thou native splendour of the Waters; O Thou fathomless Abyss of surging joy! I rejoice, yea, I shout with gladness! till the mad swords of my music smite the hills, and rend the amethyst limbs of Night from the white embrace of Day, at the Glory and Splendour of Thy Name. 5. Ah! but I rejoice in Thee, O Thou my God; Thou cloud-hooded bastion of the stormy skies; Thou lightning anvil of angel swords; Thou gloomy forge of the thunderbolt: 37