"Me iamque iam haec tempora fecit."

Sublimated in the rich metal of his desires
Like crystal, caked like the salt
Round the urinal stalls, and bathing in streams
Of the all pure elixir,
He rose to the voice of the living God.

His spirit ascended, the angels attended
Cool clouds in the breadth of the steaming dawn;
The sun blinked his eye and kernelled and cried
The diaphanous mist, and the gleaming was dun.

All hail to the fair sea, the tablets, the dragon,
Hail all that you pass in the meadows of midnight;
Sip darkness and bird-lime from cisterns and flagons:
The glutinous honey of raptured delights

Where the moon glows in the fragments of sunsets
And time, like chipping glass, stains the winds'
Far breath to the north while the cool south will let
The turbid pools of the stars touch the morn.