Here I sit

Here I sit, and glad am I

So to sit contentedly,

While with never-hastening feet

Time pursues the Infinite;

And a silence centuries-deep

Swathes my mind as if in sleep.

Passive hand, and inward eyes

Press on their transient enterprise;

As, across my paper's white

Creeps the ink from left to right,

Wooing from a soundless brain

The formless into words again:

So I sit, and glad am I

So to sit contentedly.