– 45 –

23rd July, 1930

With secret touch the Spirit of Beauty summons my soul
To conscious from unconscious being.

Six strokes of remote time-telling bell
Relate my thought to commonalty.

Opening my eyes to ambient austere dusk
I know that winter is ebbing away.

While jetty yet the expanse of low alluvial plain
Studded with red-gold flambeaux,

A griseous lambency vibrates the aerial sphere
Where silvery star-ghosts hover.

Cold salt snatches of breeze coming in from the sea
Shake the silences of my watch-tower.

Search well, spiritual winds, the recesses of my heart
For the ways of wickedness in me,

Before the concealing casket of darkness opens wide
To display its enamelled jewels,

Coral and amber clouds in turquoise blue sky
And opaline snowy mountains.