Chapter 3 No.3

I set the trumpet to my lips and blow.

The height of night is shaken, the skies break,

The winds and stars and waters come and go

By fits of breath and light and sound, that wake

As out of sleep, and perish as the show

Built up of sleep, when all her strengths forsake

The sense-compelling spirit; the depths glow,

The heights flash, and the roots and summits shake

Of earth in all her mountains,

And the inner foamless fountains

And wellsprings of her fast-bound forces quake;

Yea, the whole air of life

Is set on fire of strife,

Till change unmake things made and love remake;

Reason and love, whose names are one,

Seeing reason is the sunlight shed from love the sun.