Still preach the soul’s austere apostolate.
“Always there will be vision for the heart,
The press of endless passion: every goal
A traveler’s tavern, whence he must depart
On new divine adventures of the soul.”
Which Was Dream?
Suggested by an ancient Chinese classic
I thought that I dreamed a dream one night—
That I was a moth on a joyous flight,
Under a sky the west wind cools,