The Awakening

I SEE the mystery of life anew,

Bright angels have passed by me: I have heard

A whirr of wings, and voices in adieu.

Now all that seems is hushed, scarcely are stirred

The curtains of the soul, and all things seem

Brooding, and big with portents like the night.

But now I thought I saw the distant gleam

Of angel pinions in the western light,

And heard the fading music: then it rolled

In floods of living sound; and as they swept

Around, in whispered awe they spoke and told

The secrets of the universe. I kept

The fragments that I heard: now all things are

Lit with a glory not of sun or star.