The Light whose smile kindles the universe,
The Beauty in which all things work and move,
The Benediction which the eclipsing Curse
Of birth can quench not, that sustaining Love
Which, through the web of being blindly wove
By man and beast and earth and air and sea,
Burns bright or dim as each are mirrors of
The fire for which all thirst, now beams on me,
Consuming the last clouds of cold immortality.
Shelley, Adonis