human
Take me to Rome! The Madonna has turned her face upon him indeed,
gpt
I paced the city: it was the first Spring. By the invasion I lay passive to, In rushed new things, the old were rapt away; Alike abolished--the imprisonment Of the outside air, the inside weight o' the world That pulled me down.
human
Death meant, to spurn the ground. Soar to the sky,--die well and you do that. The very immolation made the bliss; Death was the heart of life, and all the harm My folly had crouched to avoid, now proved a veil Hiding all gain my wisdom strove to grasp: As if the intense centre of the flame Should turn a heaven to that devoted fly Which hitherto, sophist alike and sage, Saint Thomas with his sober grey goose-quill, And sinner Plato by Cephisian reed, Would fain, pretending just the insect's good, Whisk off, drive back, consign to shade again. Into another state, under new rule I knew myself was passing swift and sure; Whereof the initiatory pang approached, Felicitous annoy, as bitter-sweet As when the virgin-band, the victors chaste, Feel at the end the earthly garments drop, And rise with something of a rosy shame Into immortal nakedness: so I Lay, and let come the proper throe would thrill Into the ecstasy and outthrob pain.