Mirrored pants the Life, the Death;。，Fires of lower Earth to sky;
Not so sore as my thoughts: if, beguiled,。，Sovereignly of ME and I.
Were his temple to clothe him in awe,。，Fleetingness will spare her flower.
。，Ringing cries to the God, the Just,
Against the sharp catch of his hurt.。，For the coming of wrathful rain:
And viewing a maiden, he thought。，Sea darkened: earth gathered her fowl;
The chiefs pressing hot on the strand,。，Of dire wizardry no hint,
But have care.。，Imitatively, raged my poor brute;
Lurks the shuffling trickster sprite:。，There meet all: too late look most.
Owns him smoke to cocks of day.。，In your breast the light must burn
The majestic Mother and Nurse,。，Of sceptre and sword and lance
Being anew in nature dipped,。，Soft Enna that prostrate grief
Natural overgrowths they lop,。，Self, his name declare.
Our Lady of the Sheaves。，
Think her Lump, or know her Flame;。，O shining in sunlight, chief
A hue unillumined by sun。，More than glad musician this;
，Once beheld she gives the key。，Rattles deep the moth-winged jar.