Thel, a young spirit wandering the vales of Har, stops a little cloud and asks why it complains when it melts away in a single hour. She sees her own vanishing reflected in its brief life. The cloud shines forth and explains that its fading isn’t loss but a movement into tenfold life—it will descend to rest on balmy flowers, court the bright dew, and finally rise linked in a golden band with the sun, walking together to feed tender blossoms. Thel trembles. She enjoys the valley’s scents and birdsong but feeds nothing; she fears being remembered as a shining yet useless woman, or simply food for worms. From its airy throne, the cloud gently answers that even becoming worm food is a great blessing, because nothing lives for itself alone. It calls up the humble worm, which rises onto a lily leaf, and then sails off to find its partner. The mood is dreamy and tender—Thel’s lonely dread is met by a quiet vision of life’s interdependence, where even decay becomes a form of nurture.
The Book of Thel. Part II — Summary
O little Cloud the virgin said, I charge thee to tell me Why thou complainest now when in one hour thou fade away: Then we shall seek thee but not find: ah Thel is like to thee. I pass away, yet I complain, and no one hears my voice.
The Cloud then shewd his golden head & his bright form emerg'd. Hovering and glittering on the air before the face of Thel.
O virgin know'st thou not our steeds drink of the golden springs Where Luvah doth renew his horses: lookst thou on my youth. And fearest thou because I vanish and am seen no more. Nothing remains; O maid I tell thee, when I pass away. It is to tenfold life, to love, to peace, and raptures holy: Unseen descending, weigh my light wings upon balmy flowers: And court the fair eyed dew, to take me to her shining tent The weeping virgin, trembling kneels before the risen sun. Till we arise link'd in a golden band and never part: But walk united bearing food to all our tender flowers.
Dost thou O little cloud? I fear that I am not like thee: For I walk through the vales of Har, and smell the sweetest flowers: But I feed not the little flowers: I hear the warbling birds, But I feed not the warbling birds, they fly and seek their food: But Thel delights in these no more because I fade away And all shall say, without a use this shining women liv'd, Or did she only live to be at death the food of worms.
The Cloud reclind upon his airy throne and answerd thus.
Then if thou art the food of worms, O virgin of the skies, How great thy use, how great thy blessing, every thing that lives. Lives not alone nor or itself: fear not and I will call, The weak worm from its lowly bed, and thou shalt hear its voice. Come forth worm and the silent valley, to thy pensive queen.
The helpless worm arose and sat upon the Lillys leaf, And the bright Cloud saild on, to find his partner in the vale.