Verse > Anthologies > The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse > 349. On the Holy Trinity
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Nicholson & Lee, eds.  The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. 1917.
  
349. On the Holy Trinity
By John Gray  (b. 1893)
  
  ERE aught began,
  Beyond the span
  Of sense, the Word
  (O priceless hoard!)
Was, which God fashioned in his youth.        5
  O Fatherbreast,
  Wherefrom, with zest,
  The Word did bloom!
  Yet did the womb
Retain the Word in very truth.       10
  Of twain a fount,
  Love paramount,
  The double troth,
  Known unto both,
The ever gentle Spirit flows.       15
  Equal, and none
  Can make but one;
  One are the three;
  Yet what it be
That triple spirit only knows.       20
  The triple crown
  Hath deep renown;
  Ring without clasp
  No sense can grasp,
It is a depth without a floor.       25
  Is rest, is grace,
  Shape, form and space;
  The source, the ring
  Of everything;
A point which never moveth more       30
  To its abode
  There is no road;
  Curiously
  It beareth thee
Into a desert strangely strange.       35
  Is wide, is broad,
  Unmeasured road;
  The desert has
  Nor time nor space,
Its way is wonderfully strange.       40
  That desert plot
  No foot hath trod;
  Created wit
  Ne’er came to it;
It is, and no man knoweth what.       45
  Is there, is here,
  Is far, is near,
  Is deep, is high,
  And none reply
Whether this thing be this or that.       50
  Is light, is pure,
  Is most obscure,
  Nameless, alone,
  It is unknown,
Free both of end and origin.       55
  It standeth dark,
  Is bare and stark;
  Reveal his face
  Who knows its place,
And say what fashion it is in.       60
  Become a child,
  Deaf, blind and mild;
  Be eye and thought
  Reduced to naught,
Self and negation driven back,       65
  Space, time resign,
  And every sign,
  No leader hath
  The narrow path,
So com’st thou to the desert track.       70
  O soul, abroad,
  Go in to God;
  Sink as a yes
  In nothingness,
Sink in unfathomable flood.       75
  I fly from thee,
  Thou greetest me;
  Self left behind,
  If I but find
Thee, O thou good of every good!       80

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