Self marks the fragrance of the spicéd air,The restful woven path; Self walks and smiles;Self feels the beauty glowing everywhere,And pomp and grandeur of the forest aisles.
Soul thrills to madness as it scarce remains,But floats before me as a hidden mist;And earth has vanished; only joy aloneIs pearl and grey and tinged with amethyst.
But high above in slender, golden rays,The sun bursts through into that forest dim;And in the reverence of a kingly hour,I walked with Him.
