The poem
BEARDED with dewy grass the mountains thrust Their blackness high into the still grey light, Deepening to blue: far up the glimmering height In silver transience shines the starry dust.
Silent the sheep about me; fleece by fleece They sleep and stir not: I with awe around Wander uncertain o’er the giant mound, A fire that moves between their peace and peace.
The city myriads dream or sleep below; Aloft another day has but begun: Under the radiance of the Midnight Sun The Tree of Life put forth its leaves to grow.
Wiser than they below who dream or sleep? I know not; but their day is dream to me, And in their darkness I awake to see A Thought that moves like light within the deep.
Only from dream to dream our spirits pass: Well, let us rise and fly from sphere to sphere; Some one of all unto the light more near Mirrors the Dreamer in its glowing glass.