How often have we called their ancient light
Enchanted diamonds, lumenating night?
And gazed on them in awe in Bangalore,
And on the broken stones of Castlemore?

And was I never tempted then to try
To find in some deep region of the sky
A true perfection of the poet's soul,
Beyond our broken union of the whole?

Or am I bound by molecules of light
To stand in cell and gene against the night
And turning inward from the burning ore
Find molecules of kinship in the core?

And am I then impelled again to try,
In one small region of the ancient sky,
To be enchanted in the night and soul
Unbroken and united in the whole?