Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn forest, Of the moon that descends the steeps of the soughing twilight, Toss, sparkles of day and dusk⁠—toss on the black stems that decay in the muck, Toss to the moaning gibberish of the dry limbs.

I ascend from the moon, I ascend from the night, I perceive that the ghastly glimmer is noonday sunbeams reflected, And debouch to the steady and central from the offspring great or small.

There is that in me⁠—I do not know what it is⁠—but I know it is in me.

Wrench’d and sweaty⁠—calm and cool then my body becomes, I sleep⁠—I sleep long.

I do not know it⁠—it is without name⁠—it is a word unsaid, It is not in any dictionary, utterance, symbol.

Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on, To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes me.

Perhaps I might tell more. Outlines! I plead for my brothers and sisters.

Do you see O my brothers and sisters? It is not chaos or death⁠—it is form, union, plan⁠—it is eternal life⁠—it is Happiness.