Or formulate my mind in iron words,
That my mind grows, o’erleaps the limit set,
And I perceive the truth that lies beyond—
One further step into a new-fallen night.
Hear then—I hate to hurt your perfect soul;
I hate myself because I love you still
In that strange intermediate consciousness,
The reason and the mind! This middle way
Ancients called safe—that damns it instantly!
Without some danger nothing great is done!