The Clue

 

This is how the magic works:

Behind the screen of sense and thought

A strange unearthly beauty lurks,

Awaiting to be caught.

 

The hidden dream-lanes inward reach

To shining waters, caverned deep,

Beyond the pale release of speech,

In unknown tracts of sleep.

 

No clues? No tappings, plumbings might

Unseal those doors in Matter's wall;

Those secret fortresses of light

Only to self-giving fall.

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