The Divine Union

Whisper'd one to Wámik, "O thou Victim of the wound of Azra, What is it like, that a shadow Movest thou about in silence Meditating night and day?" Wámik answer'd, "Even this-- To fly with Azra to the desert: There by so remote a fountain That, whichever way one travell'd League on league, one yet should never, Never meet the face of man-- There to pitch my tent--for ever There to gaze on my Belovèd; Gaze, till gazing out of gazing Grew to being her I gaze on, She and I no more, but in one Undivided being blended. All that is not One must ever Suffer with the wound of absence; And whoever in Love's city Enters, finds but room for One, And but in Oneness Union."