172
THE DÆMONIC AND
And ever the Dæmonic Love
Is the ancestor of wars,
And the parent of remorse.
III.
Higher far,
Upward into the pure realm,
Over sun and star,
Over the flickering Dæmon film,
Thou must mount for love;
Into vision where all form
In one only form dissolves;
In a region where the wheel
On which all beings ride
Visibly revolves;
Where the starred, eternal worm
Girds the world with bound and term;
Where unlike things are like;
Where good and ill,
And joy and moan,
Melt into one.
