So soon as you have come to see
That what the others call
Realities, for such as you,
Are never real at all;
So soon as you have ceased to care
What others say or do,
And understand that they are they,
And you—thank God—are you.
Then is your foot upon the path,
Your journey well begun,
And safe the road for you to tread,
Moonlight or morning sun.
Pence of this world you shall not take,
Yea! no provision heed;
A wild-rose gathered in the wood
Will buy you all you need.
Hungry, the birds shall bring you food,
The bees their honey bring;
And, thirsty, you the crystal drink
Of an immortal spring.
For sleep, behold how deep and soft
With moss the earth is spread,
And all the trees of all the world
Shall curtain round your bed.
Enchanted journey! that begins
Nowhere, and nowhere ends,
Seeking an ever-changing goal,
Nowhither winds and wends.
For destination yonder flower,
For business yonder bird;
Aught better worth the travelling to
I never saw or heard.
O long dream-travel of the soul!
First the green earth to tread—
And still yon other starry track
To travel when you're dead_.