| Casting away the final lizard skin of grief,
The mind, at last in motile synthesis
With probing diamonds frozen as its eyes,
Is pointed in the mirror's silvered world
Emerging with a single countenance ;
This is no longer crowds attempting
To wear one face before their multitude,
Or hide their vacant eyes in unity,
But rather in its place two rival worlds
In toil for some determinded mastery,
Achieving strange recluse behind a mask
That soothes unbridled characters of mind
And focuses their varied image to one point.
Here shall the Word, no longer seeking
Definition, flow like a stream untramelled
By retarding sand, and charge the buried
Doubt within its rock of constant scattering
To learn a faith forever rising new;
Then with full age of time, resense fresh birth
And shed the tarnished burden with its change;
So too the soul, with caverned labyrinth
Shall join the welling storm of grief transformed
With joy, uplift the gaining flood towards
The circled fount of eyes, and lie replete
With gifts of pain, deep underlaid
As cores of tears, wet in the web of peace.
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