I Am Grown Peaceful As Old Age

The Peerless Cup Afloat Of The Lake-lily Is An Urn Some Nymph Swims Bearing High Above Her Head.

A Whole I Planned, Youth Shows But Half; Trust God: See All, Nor Be Afraid!

And I Have Written Three Books On The Soul, Proving Absurd All Written Hitherto, And Putting Us To Ignorance Again.

Still More Labyrinthine Buds The Rose.

There Is An Inmost Center In Us All, Where Truth Abides In Fullness;....and, To Know, Rather Consists In Opening Out A Way Where The Imprisoned Splendor May Escape, Then In Effecting Entry For A Light Supposed To Be Without.