By Luis G. Dato
I have a vision of a world-soul fleeing,
Too airy for touch, and too swift for seeing;
I see the footstep of the soul immortal
Left in the glow of twilight’s fiery portal,
In rise of rainbows, and the flight of swallow,
Too fast for any wings of words to follow.
I see it in the opening of roses.
Whose petals a whole universe encloses,
In the bright laughter of the crystal brooks,
Which bubble from the hills, laugh from the rocks;
Behold it in the shimmering meadow-grass
When over it the winds of April pass;
In the soft patter after dusk of rain
That knocks a stranger by your window-pane,
In vain I seek its mystic form to capture
At dawn in the white clouds’ so silent rapture;
I see it beckon in the day’s sun-setting,
Transcending grief and all the heart’s forgetting,
I see it in the sparkle of a star
That lights from blue immensities afar;
And more, it opens gates of Paradise,
When I behold it in your dear, dark eyes.