Flaming June, one of Lord Leighton’s last paintings
O THOU mysterious One, lying asleep Within the lonely chamber of my soul! Thou art my life’s true goal, Thine is the only altar that I keep. Rapt in the contemplation of thy repose, I see in thy still face that Mystic Rose Whose perfume is my soul’s imaginings, And Beauty at whose awesomeness I weep With over-plenitude of ecstasy. Thy slumber is the great world-mystery— The paradigm of all the latent things That in their destined hour Time magnifies: Its emblems are the intimate hush that lies Over the moonlit lake; The wonder and the ache Of unborn love that trembles in its sleep; The hope that thrills the heavy earth With presage of becoming, and vast birth; The secret of the caverns of the deep.