We were young and the call of the mysteried East Ran swiftly through the blood of our youthful veins. Unknowing the mind was pulled across the earth By the beckoning spiritÕs laugh, the invisible reins Of joy attending the hour and hope of new birth.
Now in the dusk of memory there flee Fragments of beauty, scent of the mystical rose Intimations of an arcane mystery Glimpses of the inner being thrilled At the spark that in our bosom silently grows And love refound and life again fulfilled.
Poems Undated (1727)
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