Читать книгу Rampolli - George MacDonald - Страница 14

     Few understand

     The mystery of Love,

     Know insatiableness,

     And thirst eternal.

     Of the Last Supper

     The divine meaning

     Is to the earthly senses a riddle;

     But he that ever

     From warm, beloved lips,

     Drew breath of life;

     In whom the holy glow

     Ever melted the heart in trembling waves;

     Whose eye ever opened so

     As to fathom

     The bottomless deeps of heaven—

     Will eat of his body

     And drink of his blood

     Everlastingly.

     Who of the earthly body

     Has divined the lofty sense?

     Who can say

     That he understands the blood?

     One day all is body,

     One body:

     In heavenly blood

     Swims the blissful two.

     Oh that the ocean

     Were even now flushing!

     And in odorous flesh

     The rock were upswelling!

     Never endeth the sweet repast;

     Never doth Love satisfy itself;

     Never close enough, never enough its own,

     Can it have the beloved!

     By ever tenderer lips

     Transformed, the Partaken

     Goes deeper, grows nearer.

     Pleasure more ardent

     Thrills through the soul;

     Thirstier and hungrier

     Becomes the heart;

     And so endureth Love’s delight

     From everlasting to everlasting.

     Had the refraining

     Tasted but once,

     All had they left

     To set themselves down with us

     To the table of longing

     Which will never be bare;

     Then had they known Love’s

     Infinite fullness,

     And commended the sustenance

     Of body and blood.