To answer’s still ayont my micht.
But when that inturned look has brocht
To licht what still in vain it’s socht
Ootward maun be the bent o’ thocht.
And organs may develop syne
Responsive to the need divine
O’ single-minded humankin’.
The function, as it seems to me,
O’ Poetry is to bring to be
At lang, lang last that unity....