Then only did I see what mystery,
What ninefold forest, shade impassible,
Surrounds Thy heart, as with a core of light
Shut in the mystery of a dead world.
Thou formless sense of gloom and terror! Thou
Upas, new tree of life—by sinister
Cherubim with averted faces kept!
Nay! This one secret I suspect, and gloat
Over the solemn purport of the dream
With subtle shuddering of joy,—and that