Thine eyes still shined for me, though far
I lonely roved the land or sea:
As I behold yon evening star,
Which yet beholds not me.
This morn I climbed the misty hill
And roamed the pastures through;
How danced thy form before my path
Amidst the deep-eyed dew!
When the redbird spread his sable wing,
And showed his side of flame;
When the rosebud ripened to the rose,
In both I read thy name.
In simple words succeeds
For still the craft of genius is
To mask a king in weeds.
I started Aldous Huxley’s The Doors of Perception this morning and I feel like I’m being sucked in. So many concepts that are elusive and completely mystifying. My curiosity and interest has been ignited.