Preface to 'Fate in Arcadia'

Here kneels my word, that may not say
Even to the inward ear of night
More than the laughter of the day
Or the soft weeping of twilight.

No waking hours, no sleep shall find
The world's continual dream revealed.
The Living Word is silent mind,
And every book is closed and sealed.

Our Mother Earth for daily things
Has given the daily mother-tongue;
But the mute wonder that she brings,
All lips have kissed; no voice has sung.

And even now the usual word
Spread like an empty couch and cold
Measures the sound our fathers heard,
But holds no more the hint untold.

For He is risen whom we seek:
The linen clothes without the form
Are folded, lest too clear they speak
The Divine Body, buried warm.

Then every song is free from blame,
Though silence veil her inmost part
Like the dark centre of the flame,
Or the hot patience of the heart.