The drunken stars stagger across the sky,
The moon wavers and sways like a wind-blown bud,
Beneath my feet the earth like drifting scud
Lapses and slides, wallows and shoots on high;
Immovable things start suddenly flying by,
The city shakes and quavers, a city of mud
And ooze — a brawling cataract is my blood
Of molten metal and fire — like God am I.
When God crushes his passion-fruit for our thirst
And the universe totters — I have burst the grape
Of the world, and let its powerful blood escape
Untasted — crying whether my vision durst
See God’s high glory in a girl’s soft shape —
God! Is my worship blessed or accurst?