On wayward route the magic word
Goes to ears that strive to have heard
The gorgeous and the seismic truth
That stokes a revelation, forsooth
That awakens sleeping herd

This is the lore. It is an insight
On which your minds can be free, take flight
And rove forever in delight
For being once again of good sight

Consists in it a magic white
That takes soul soaring to ascendant height
The songs of the flowering universe
Will be sung in joyful, sublime verse
Till the world is pure and right