Oh my child! My child! I speak to the child!
Me accepts, me accepts the desire mild!
'Thine play'd in the fields of ecstacy,
...
The sorrow of the night steals
What a morn brings as mirth;
And clouds of dark sweep
What was forever dearth.
...
What meaning lies in letters arranged?
Do letters convey the reality of thought?
With what man in greed is estranged,
Is that, of black-ink, the blot?
...
What deems to enter, within the glory of its day,
Into the fading realms of history may?
Is it not the thought of the joy of freedom, say!
Where order and republic supreme lay!
...
They find themselves in misery,
Who stifle every action with sorrow;
But those who continue with hearts heavy,
Fore'er see a joyous tomorrow.
...
Slumber dwells upon my eyes,
I who see chaos awaken;
Within what mankind has thought,
I see a world shaken.
...
Rasping doors that open unto mysteries,
The labyrinths that return unto what again begins,
Other-Worlds that look unto our forgotten histories,
Speak of the unknown as it here twins;
...
Permanence is but a heavenly dream,
Oh, so rare, so pristine, forlorn!
But lasting is not for the mortal stream,
The stream that has life to adorn;
...
The mind wanders, toward yonder,
Restless and unforgiving in its motion,
The heart suffers while it ponders,
The meaning of truth and emotion;
...