Francis Thompson

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!