Pardon My Sanity In A World Insane

Here is a little forest Whose leaf is ever green; Here is a brighter garden, Where not a frost has been; In its unfading flowers I hear the bright bee hum; Prithee, my brother, Into my garden come!

Love is its own rescue; for we, at our supremest, are but its trembling emblems.

If Aims impel these Astral Ones The ones allowed to know Know that which makes them as forgot As Dawn forgets them now

They say that “Time assuages” - Time never did assuage - An actual suffering strengthens As Sinews do, with age - Time is a Test of Trouble - But not a Remedy - If such it prove, it prove too There was no Malady

I see thee better in the dark I do not need a light.

Love can do all but raise the Dead I doubt if even that From such a giant were withheld Were flesh equivalent But love is tired and must sleep, And hungry and must graze And so abets the shining Fleet Till it is out of gaze.