I saw heaven opened, and the wings
Of lightning cleaving darkness to the heart,
Heard thunder speaking with a voice of thrones
While worlds unknown were rolling on my skin
In thick creation’s fury. I saw all things
Ingathered by cloud, all calm and all change,
Ascending and descending splendour, all
Conception can and cannot guess as one.
The storm passed. Morning came. I walked homeward.
All down the valley I saw bluebells bend
In the air, heard the near stream, until I came
To where the stones stand. This one soft with moss
And that with lichen rough. I sat between
And waited for the dulling warmth of noon.