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Youth
I must go down,
Down, down,
Below the crusts of things,
Under the shadows,
Into thought-haunted places
Where few go;
Where the road is broken
And travelled by monsters,
Truths with hard sphinx-faces.
Down, down,
Below the crusts of things,
Under the shadows,
Into thought-haunted places
Where few go;
Where the road is broken
And travelled by monsters,
Truths with hard sphinx-faces.
I must go down
Into the caves of life,
Into the darknesses,
Deep, deep,
Below the good of things,
Below the evil of things,
Where the calm roots of wisdom creep.
Into the caves of life,
Into the darknesses,
Deep, deep,
Below the good of things,
Below the evil of things,
Where the calm roots of wisdom creep.
I must tunnel
Under the bloom of dreams,
Under the frame-work of fancies,
Tunnel alone.
What if I shatter frail things,
Break delicate flowers of myth
Timorous dreamers have sown?
Under the bloom of dreams,
Under the frame-work of fancies,
Tunnel alone.
What if I shatter frail things,
Break delicate flowers of myth
Timorous dreamers have sown?
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