they told me if i search the broad windy coasts,
and long plains singing again the symphony of sky

they said then if i probe the cells of all the world
peruse the dusts of crevices until by and by

some vapour on a plateau's top
flow into my breast
close around the atoms of me
reveal it self as bliss
point infinite of my search

then spurning cloudy doubt and doubt and petty fear
and goblins lurking unknown in bushes by the way

should i breathe deep this soul and every atom steep
and in the firmness and belief of it
continue, extend and dwell,
the truth.