Our host invites his guest to enter, free from scorn:
“Thou’rt welcome, self of mine! We’re not like rose and thorn.
Our thread is single,--free from knots and tangle; done,
As ‘Be,’ though duplex as to form, in sense is one.”
That “Be” ’s a rope, of power collective, to the end
That nullity may be united to a friend.
Thus duplex means are wanted, for appearances;
Though, in effect, one means there be of all that is. 70
The biped, as the quadruped, goes but one road.
The one-edged knife, the two-edged shears, make one inroad.
Observe yon pair of bleachers at their daily toil.
Apparently, they differ, combat, as they moil.
The one’s for ever wetting cloths in their stream’s tide,
The other dries them just as fast in hot noontide.
The first, again to soak the scarce-dried cloths makes haste;
As though in opposition to his partner’s waste.
But, in reality, the two have but one aim:
Co-operation’s what they jointly, both proclaim. 75
Each prophet, every saint, has his especial rite;
But, as all tend to God, they’re one, multipartite.
Sleep overcomes alike the followers of all creeds;
As water makes all mills to turn and grind, at needs.
The water flows from upwards, down upon the mill;
Its flowing through the trough is but man’s wants to fill.
No sooner has man’s need been fully satisfied,
He turns the water off;--straight in its bed it’s tied.
To teach men wisdom, stream of speech flows through the mouth;
But spirit hath another course, far less uncouth. 80
Without a voice or repetition it rolls on,
As through elysium, streams;--flowers springing aye, anon.
O Lord! Do Thou vouchsafe to my weak, erring soul
To see the realm where, voiceless, spirit thoughts may stroll,
That so my mind, in glee, on foot or head, may wing
Its flight to the far bourn that parts from nothing, thing,
Careering o’er the boundless fields of ecstasy,
Where fancy joins reality in entity.
Far-reaching more’s nonentity than fancy’s stretch;
And thus, his fancy is a source of woe to wretch. 85
Then, being’s narrower far than fancy’s power of wing;
E’en as the full moon wanes, till it becomes a string.
The world of matter and its forms is narrower still;
A prison all too strait for mind to have its will.
Plurality and composition are the cause;
Our senses these alone can comprehend, and pause.
Beyond our senses lies the world of unity.
Desirest thou unity? Beyond thy senses fly!
Divine command, “Be!” was one act; two-lettered word;
Of grave import, though short, sprung from all being’s Lord. 90
But leave we this, and turn to see how fares it now,
With our acquaintances, wolf, fox, and lion;--trow.