The Prophet Parched with the spirit's thirst, I crossed An endless desert sunk in gloom, And a six-winged seraph came Where the tracks met and I stood lost. Fingers light as dream he laid Upon my lids; I opened wide My eagle eyes, and gazed around. He laid his fingers on my ears And they were filled with roaring sound: I heard the music of the spheres, The flight of angels through the skies, The beasts that crept beneath the sea, The heady uprush of the vine; And, like a lover kissing me, He rooted out this tongue of mine Fluent in lies and vanity; He tore my fainting lips apart And, with his right hand steeped in blood, He armed me with a serpent's dart; With his bright sword he split my breast; My heart leapt to him with a bound; A glowing livid coal he pressed Into the hollow of the wound. There in the desert I lay dead, And God called out to me and said: 'Rise, prophet, rise, and hear, and see, And let my works be seen and h...