Nox Oculis


Frederick William Henry Myers (1843–1901)

Essayiste et poète, né le 6 février 1843, à Keswick dans le Cumberland (Royaume-Uni) et mort le 17 janvier 1901 à Rome.

Myers fit ses études à Cheltenham et au Trinity College de Cambridge. Il fut professeur au Trinity College (1865-69), puis inspecteur des écoles (1862-1901). Il s'intéressa à la recherche parapsychique et à laquelle il consacra les trente dernières années de sa ie. Il fut d'ailleurs membre fondateur de la Society for Psychical Research.


A Cosmic Outlook

    Backward ! -- beyond this momentary woe ! --
    Thine was the world’s dim dawn, the prime emprize ;
    Eternal aeons gaze thro’ these sad eyes,
    And all the empyreal sphere hath shaped thee so.
    Nay ! all is living, all is plain to know !
    This rock has drunk the ray from ancient skies ;
    Strike! and the sheen of that remote sunrise
    Gleams in the marble’s unforgetful glow.
    Thus hath the cosmic light endured the same
    Ere first that ray from Sun to Sirius flew ;
    Aye, and in heaven I heard the mystic Name
    Sound, and a breathing of the Spirit blew ;
    Lit the long Past, bade shine the slumbering flame
    And all the Cosmorama blaze anew.

    Onward ! thro’ baffled hope, thro’ bootless prayer,
    With strength that sinks, with high task half begun,
    Things great desired, things lamentable done,
    Vows writ in water, blows that beat the air.
    On ! I have guessed the end; the end is fair.
    Not with these weak limbs is thy last race run ;
    Not all thy vision sets with this low sun ;
    Not all thy spirit swoons in this despair.
    Look how thine own soul, throned where all is well,
    Smiles to regard thy days disconsolate ;
    Yea ; since herself she wove the worldly spell,
    Doomed thee for lofty gain to low estate ; --
    Sown with thy fall a seed of glory fell ;
    Thy heaven is in thee, and thy will thy fate.

    Inward ! aye, deeper far than love or scorn,
    Deeper than bloom of virtue, stain of sin,
    Rend thou the veil and pass alone within,
    Stand naked there and feel thyself forlorn !
    Nay! in what world, then, Spirit, wast thou born ?
    Or to what World-Soul art thou entered in ?
    Feel the Self fade, feel the great life begin,
    With Love re-rising in the cosmic morn.
    The inward ardour yearns to the inmost goal ;
    The endless goal is one with the endless way ;
    From every gulf the tides of Being roll,
    From every zenith burns the indwelling day ;
    And life in Life has drowned thee and soul in Soul ;
    And these are God, and thou thyself art they.

    Frederick William Henry Myers, The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse (1917)


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