Like labour-laden moonclouds faint to flee From winds that sweep the winter-bitten wold,— Like multiform circumfluence manifold Of night's flood-tide,—like terrors that agree Of hoarse-tongued fire and inarticulate sea,— Even such, within some gla** dimmed by our breath, Our hearts discern wild images of d**h, Shadows and shoals that edge eternity. Howbeit athwart d**h's imminent shade doth soar One Power, than flow of stream or flight of dove Sweeter to glide around, to brood above. Tell me, my heart;—what angel-greeted door Or threshold of wing-winnowed threshing-floor Hath guest fire-fledged as thine, whose lord is Love?