To Win the Soul's Release

A cloud of floating midges in the air

And scurrying life among the leaves of fall,

A new world grows omnipotent and fair

Amid the raptor's cry, the song-bird's call.

And we who tread the earth with upright stance,

Actors in a sacred mystery-play

Amongst Her highest creatures hardly glance

To view the soaring spirit's destined way.

We hold within our hearts an occult key

To wisdom and undying founts of love,

Harbour evil and divinity

And untold gifts bequeathed from worlds above.

What now remains to conquer, still must win,

The soul's release to usher godhead in.