English poetry

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The Vesture of the Soul

I PITIED one whose tattered dress
Was patched, and stained with dust and rain;
He smiled on me; I could not guess
The viewless spirit’s wide domain.

He said, “The royal robe I wear
Trails all along the fields of light:
Its silent blue and silver bear
For gems the starry dust of night.

“The breath of Joy unceasingly
Waves to and fro its folds starlit,
And far beyond earth’s misery
I live and breathe the joy of it.”

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Poem The Vesture of the Soul - George William Russell