Canto XCI
I shall not see thee. Dare I sayNo spirit ever brake the bandThat stays him from the native land,Where first he walk’d when claspt in clay?
No visual shade of some one lost,But he, the Spirit himself, may comeWhere all the nerve of sense is numb;Spirit to Spirit, Ghost to Ghost.
O, therefore from thy sightless rangeWith gods in unconjectured bliss,O, from the distance of the abyssOf tenfold-complicated change,
Descend, and touch, and enter; hearThe wish too strong for words to name;That in this blindness of the frameMy Ghost may feel that thine is near.