64 
AMBERGRIS 
VII. 
Draw me with cords that are not ;  witch me chanted 
Spells never heard nor open to the ear, 
Woven of silence, moulded in the haunted 
Houses where dead men linger year by year. 
I have no fear 
To tread thy far irremeable way 
Beyond the paths and palaces of day, 
Beyond the night, beyond the skies, 
Beyond eternity’s 
Tremendous gate ;  beyond the immanent miracle. 
O secret self of things ! 
I have nor feet nor wings 
Except to follow far beyond Heaven and Earth and Hell, 
Until I mix my mood 
And being in thee, as in my hermit’s hood 
I grow the thing I contemplate that selfless solitude !