The Fall

From that warm height and pure,     The peak undreamed of out of heavy air     Rising to heaven more strange and rare;     From that amazed brief sojourn, exquisite, insecure;     Fallen from thence to this,     From all immortal sunk to mortal sweet,     To slow gross joys from joy so fleet,     Fallen to mere remembrance of unsustainable bliss....     O harsh, O heavy air,     Difficult endurance, pain of common things!     The slow sun east to westward swings,     The flat-faced moon climbs labouring with a senseless stare.     From that inconceivable height----     O inward eyes that saw and ears that heard,     Spiritual swift wings that stirred     In that warm-flushing air and unendurable light;     When I was as mere down     On a swift-running youthful wind uptaken     Over tall trees, white mountains, shaken,     Into the uttermost azure lifted, lifted alone.     From that peak can it be     That I am fallen, fallen that was so high?     Or was that truly, surely I?     Who is it crawls here now, sad, uncontentedly?     Fallen from that high content,     --Fool, thou that wast content merely with bliss!     Happy those lovers that will not kiss;     Never to be fulfilled was the heart's endless passion meant.     Never on joys attainable     To linger, never on easy near delight--     O bitter, unreached infinite,     Merciful defeat, availless anguish, hunger unendurable!     O who shall be in longing wise,     Skilled in refusal, in embracing free,     Glad with earth's innocent ecstasy,     Yet all the uncomprehended heaven in his eyes!