Tree and the worm and the storm therein. . .
"Welcome, welcome!"
Cried unto me the time-mother from all sides
With her brown mouth,
And girded me with her warm arms:
"My well-beloved, eternal child!",
That I shrieked and melted with bliss
And ever again emerged
In the countenance of all things,
Till a silvery skiff from the sickle of the moon
Bore me away hovering above oceans
And I rocked and blissfully fared
From night into night
From time into time . . .
Drunken with lustre and soul of the All. . .
2. QUAFFING THE STORM.
The enkindled storm swept ragingly into the great forest
And the forest stirred aquiver and sang
With gloomy voices
As when time in chaos began.
All trees clenched themselves in violence, in strife,
An eagle the forest became,
Beating its pinions before avenging wrath of the storm
Aloft to the richly-clad vault.
Drunken with wild joy
