What glories would we? Motions of the soul
The centaur and the sybil romp and sing
Within the reach of my imagining
Such affirmations are perpetual 
I teach my sighs to lengthen into songs
Yet, like a tree, endure the shift of things
The night wind rises . Does my father live
Dark hangs upon the waters of the soul
My flesh is breathing slower than a wall
Love alters all. Unblood my instinct,love
These waters drowse me into sleep so kind
I walk as if my face would kiss the wind
Sudden renewal of the self—from where
A raw ghost drinks the fluid in my spine
I know I love, yet know not where I am
Will the self, lost, be found again? In form
I walk the night to keep my five wits warm 
Dry bones ! Dry bones! I find my loving heart
Illumination brought to such a pitch
I see the rubblestone begin to stretch
As if reality had split apart
And the whole motion of the soul lay bare
I find that love, and I am everywhere