And now my grief I see
Was but the ancient shadow part of me,
Not yet attuned to good,
Still blind and senseless in its warring mood,
I turn from it and climb
To heroic spirit of the prime,
The light that well foreknew
All dark ways that it must journey through.
Yet seeing still a gain,
A distant glory o’er the hills of pain,
Through all that chaos wild
A breath as gentle as a little child,
Through earth transformed, divine,
The Christ-soul of the universe to shine.
— George William Russell A.E.