This inkling points the road to union one fair morn.
Thou’st never known a guide, but some one must be led;
And when no road is travelled, gnome can’t dog man’s tread.30
Thou’st never heard a name, but indicates a thing;
A flower thou’st never plucked from verbal rosa’s ding.
Hast thou pronounced a name? Straightway the thing ensue.
The moon seek in the sky;—not in lake-waters, blue.
But wouldst thou cast aside all names and words, as vain,
Thyself, then, purge of self. Abstraction thou shalt gain.
Wouldst be a sword? Cast off soft iron’s yield refined;