387. Quiet

THERE is a flame within me that has stood

Unmoved, untroubled through a mist of years,

Knowing nor love nor laughter, hope nor fears,

Nor foolish throb of ill, nor wine of good.

I feel no shadow of the winds that brood,

I hear no whisper of a tide that veers,

I weave no thought of passion, nor of tears,

Unfettered I of time, of habitude.

I know no birth, I know no death that chills;

I fear no fate nor fashion, cause nor creed,

I shall outdream the slumber of the hills,

I am the bud, the flower, I the seed:

For I do know that in whate’er I see

I am the part and it the soul of me.