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<h2> O MYSTIC WINGS </h2>
<p>O mystic wings, upbear me lightly now,<br/>
Beyond life’s faithful labour to a seat<br/>
Where I can feel the end of things complete,<br/>
Where no hot breath of ill can scorch the brow.<br/>
<br/>
O mystic wings of Art, about thee Truth<br/>
Makes atmosphere of purity and power;<br/>
‘Tis man’s breath kills the spring’s soft-petaled flower—<br/>
<br/>
Ye give a refuge for the heart of youth.<br/>
<br/>
Ye give a value for all loss in age,<br/>
When feebled eyes search for forgotten springs;<br/>
Ye fan the breeze that turns the moulded page,<br/>
<br/>
And carry back the soul to ardent things.<br/>
Poor payment can I give, but here engage<br/>
I thee to be Love’s airy equipage.<br/></p>
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