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and furnace…like vehemence of prayer。 That I might have the deepest of
soul…life； the deepest of all； deeper far than all this greatness of the
visible universe and even of the invisible； that I might have a fulness of
soul till now unknown； and utterly beyond my own conception。
In the deepest darkness of the night the same thought rose in my
mind as in the bright light of noontide。 What is there which I
have not used to strengthen the same emotion？
CHAPTER II
SOMETIMES I went to a deep； narrow valleyin the hills； silent and solitary。
The sky crossed from side to side； like a roof supported on two walls of
green。 Sparrows chirped in the wheat at the verge above； their calls
falling like the twittering of swallows from the air。 There was no other
sound。 The short grass was dried grey as it grew by the heat； the sun hung
over the narrow vale as if it had been put there by hand。 Burning； burning；
the sun glowed on the sward at the footof the slope where these thoughts
burned into me。 How many； many years； how many cycles of years； how many
bundles ofcycles of years； had the sun glowed down thus on that hollow？
Since it was formed how long？ Since it was worn and shaped；groove…like； in
the flanks of the hills by mighty forces which had ebbed。 Alone with the
sun which glowed on the work when it was done； I saw back through space to
the old time of tree…ferns； of the lizard
flying through the air； the lizard…dragon wallowing in sea foam； the
mountainous creatures； twice…elephantine； feeding on land； all the crooked
sequence of life。 The dragon…fly which passed me traced a continuous
descent from the fly marked on stone in those days。 The immense time lifted
me like a wave rolling under a boat； my mind seemed to raise itself as the
swell of the cycles came； it felt strongwith the power of the ages。 With
all thattime and power I prayed： that I might have in my soul the
intellectual part of it； theidea； the thought。 Like a shuttle the mind shot
to and fro the past and the present； in an instant。
Full to the brim of the wondrous past； I felt the wondrous
present。 For the daythe very moment I breathed； that second of time then
in the valley； was as marvellous； as grand； as all
that had gone before。 Now； this moment was the wonder and the
glory。Now；this moment was exceedingly wonder…
ful。 Now； this moment give me all the
thought； all the idea； ali the soul expressed in the cosmos
around me。 Give me still more； for the interminable universe；
past and present； is but earth； give me the unknown soul； wholly
apart from it； the soul of which I know only that when I touch
the ground； when the sunlight touches my hand；it is not there。 Therefore
the heart looks into space to be away from earth。 With all the cycles； and
the sunlight streaming through them； with all that is meant by the present；
I thought in the deep vale and prayed。
There was a secluded spring to which I sometimes went to drink
the pure water； lifting it in the hollow of my hand。 Drinking
the lucid water； clear as light itself in solution； I absorbed
the beauty and purity of it。 I drank the thought of the element； I desired
soul…nature pure and limpid。 When I saw the
sparkling dew on the grassa rainbow broken into dropsit called up the
same thought…prayer。 The stormy wind whose sudden twists laid the trees on
the ground woke the same feeling； my heart shouted with it。 The soft summer
air which entered when I
opened my window in the morning breathed the same sweet desire。
At night； before sleeping； I always looked out at the shadowy trees； the
hills looming indistinctly in the dark； a star seen between the drifting
clouds； prayer of soul…life always。 I chose the highest room； bare and
gaunt； because as I sat at work I could look out and see more of the wide
earth； more of the dome of the sky； and could think my desire through these。
When the crescent of the new moon shone； all the old thoughts were renewed。
All the succeeding incidents of the year repeated my prayer as
I noted them。 The first green leaf on the hawthorn； the first
spike of meadow grass； the first song of the nightingale； the
green ear of wheat。 I spoke it with the ear of wheat as the sun
tinted it golden； with the whitening barley； again with the red gold spots
of autumn on the beech； the buff oak leaves； and the gossamer dew…weighted。
All the larks over the green corn sang it for me； all the dear swallows； the
green leaves rustled it； the green brookflags waved it； the swallows took it
with them to repeat it for me in distant lands。 By the running brook I
meditated it； a flash of sunlight here in the curve； a flicker yonderon the
ripples； the birds bathing in the sandy shallow； the rush of falling water。
As the brook ran winding through the
meadow； so one thought ran winding through my days。
The sciences I studied never checked it for a moment； nor did the books of
old philosophy。 The sun was stronger than science；
the hills more than philosophy。 Twice circumstances gave me a brief view of
the sea then the passion rose tumultuous as the
waves。 It was very bitter to me to leave the sea。
Sometimes I spent the whole day walking over the hills
searching for it； as if the labour of walking would force it
from the ground。 I remained in the woods for hours； among the
ash sprays and the fluttering of the ring…doves at their nests；
the scent of pines here and there； dreaming my prayer。
My work was most uncongenial and useless； but even then sometimes a
gleam of sunlight on the wall； the buzz of a bee at the window； would bring
the thought to me。 Only to make me miserable； for it was a waste of golden
time while the rich sunlight streamed on hill and plain。 There was a
wrenching of the mind； a straining of the mental sinews； I was forced to do
this； my mind was yonder。 Weariness； exhaustion； nerve…illness often
ensued。 The insults which are showered on poverty； long struggle of labour；
the heavy pressure of circumstances； the unhappiness； only stayed the
expression of the feeling。 It was always there。 Often in the streets of
London； as the red sunset flamed over the houses； the old thought； the old
prayer； came。
Not only in grassy fields with green leaf and running brook did
this constant desire find renewal。 More deeply still with
living human beauty； the perfection of form； the simple fact of
form； ravished and always willravish me away。 In this lies the outcome and
end of all the loveliness of sunshine and green leaf； of flowers； pure
water； and sweet air。 This is embodiment and highest ex…pression； the
scattered； uncertain； and designless loveliness of tree and sunlight brought
to shape。 Through this beauty Iprayed deepest and longest； and down to this
hour。 The shapethe divine idea of that shapethe swelling muscle or the
dreamy limb； strong sinew or curve of bust； Aphrodite or Hercules； it is the
same。 That I may have the soul…life； the soul…nature； let divine beauty
bring to me divine soul。 Swart Nubian； white Greek； delicate Italian；
massive Scandinavian； in all the exquisite pleasure the form gave； and
gives； to me immediately becomes intense prayer。
If