Soul And Body (1)

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Title:     Soul And Body (1)
Author: Rachel Annand Taylor [More Titles by Taylor]

It may be all my pain is woven wrong,
And this wild "I" is nothing but a dream
The body exhales, as roses at evensong
Their passionate odour. Verily it may seem
That this most fevered and fantastic wear
Of nerves and senses is myself indeed,
The rest, illusion taken in that snare.--
But still the fiery splendour and the need
Can bite like actual flame and hunger. Ah!
If Sense, bewildered in the spiral towers
Of Matter, dreamed this great Superbia
I call the Soul, not less the Dream hath powers;
Not less these Twain, being one, are separate,
Like lovers whose love is tangled hard with hate.

[The end]
Rachel Annand Taylor's poem: Soul And Body (1)

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