Introit : Iii. The Tree Of Knowledge Poem by Thomas MacDonagh

Introit : Iii. The Tree Of Knowledge



In the dusk I again behold
Figures of knowledge divine,
A chalice of sacred gold
Filled to the brim with wine,
A double-woven veil
With meshes that enfold
A gauze of gossamer frail:
I tremble and lie still,
Held by a holy dread
Lest the wine from the chalice spill
And the knowledge of God lie dead.
I lose the chalice from view
Through infirmity of will.

I take the veil in my hands
And to uncover the gauze
I open the woven strands--
And then in dread I pause
Lest the gossamer be rent
And the perfect knowledge destroyed
Then I know how power is spent
And the deed of the will made void.
The veil has vanished too,
And barren before me lies
The hill where once I knew
The lost secret of Paradise.

It was there I was as the wild
Of the earth and the water and air,
Untroubled by knowledge, the child
Of God and Time -- it was there
I shouted with joy in the light
With the stars of morning and God,
Where the knowledge tree in my sight
Bent with fruit to the sod.
There the spirit of me awoke
To the serpent's constant call,
To the earth of me it spoke
And bade me to know all,
To eat and be as a god.
I ate and was a man,
With desire as a god to be,
For then I first began
Knowledge to taste and to see,
And the eternal plan
To know, and be one with the laws
That are with eternity.

I ate and was a man
Upon a bare hill side,
For the tree was withered up
And the ancient life had died.
I held a gossamer gauze,
And I gazed on a golden cup.

And now again I have seen
The cup that I saw at my birth,
And have held the gauze between
Its webs in a veil of the earth,
And I gaze on the hill again
Where the tree that withered shall grow
When I in pleasure and pain
Have toiled to the full and know.

I gaze on the hill to see
New promise of knowledge divine.
I know that infirmity
Shall be changed to power with the sign
That to me is given now.

And I hear the trampling of hooves
Thundering up with a plough,
And a team of horses moves
In splendour over the rise
Of the ridge, and into the light.
I shout with joy at the sight
As I shouted in Paradise.

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Thomas MacDonagh

Thomas MacDonagh

Cloughjordan / Ireland
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