Francis Thompson (Фрэнсис Томпсон)
Scala Jacobi Portaque Eburnea
Her soul from earth to Heaven lies, Like the ladder of the vision, Whereon go To and fro, In ascension and demission, Star-flecked feet of Paradise. Now she is drawn up from me, All my angels, wet-eyed, tristful, Gaze from great Heaven’s gate Like pent children, very wistful, That below a playmate see. Dream-dispensing face of hers! Ivory port which loosed upon me Wings, I wist, Whose amethyst Trepidations have forgone me,— Hesper’s filmy traffickers!
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