The poem
WITH Thee a moment! Then what dreams have play! Traditions of eternal toil arise, Search for the high, austere and lonely way The Spirit moves in through eternities. Ah, in the soul what memories arise!
And with what yearning inexpressible, Rising from long forgetfulness I turn To Thee, invisible, unrumoured, still: White for Thy whiteness all desires burn. Ah, with what longing once again I turn!