Climbing the heights of Imagination With that great longing need to Seek out purer reality. Does it exist? If not, from where descends Which inner compulsion feels Like homesickness, heavenly?
Of woman's wisdom, inscrutable In its instinct-applied Grasping of heart matters, if matters Deep as those soul-quarried School aged, was I struck first by it. When in one's eye stood out Blind to, in myself as some uncut Gemmed find to shout about.