1464

The quality of nature is not gained

Nor falls it from a heaven,

Nor borne nor housed,

Yet occupied and carried still,

Mirror and object alike of what is.

What's animal's in amber,

To sensation's largess bound

And golden in this fraction's potence,

Blooded with its heat.

Ungentle be false duality-

The pulse in in a thought-

Grant me peace my creature

Not yours to take,

But mine to surrender.