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First Line: Unto the blooms of the mystical garden of solace
Last Line: Back shall it wing to me, masterful, buoyant, whole.


Unto the blooms of the mystical garden of solace,
Unto the boles of the boundless garden of peace, --
Shut from the rumor of earth's loud pleasures and follies, --
Bourne where earth's passionate discords dwindle and cease, --
Where the fountain of life, more vast than the cup of the ocean,
Is brimming the souls of men with its quickening potion, --
Thither I send my drooping battle-scarred soul;
Knowing that after one golden hour of ease, --
With the lilt of creation's dawn in its every motion, --
Back shall it wing to me, masterful, buoyant, whole.





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