All things unto me are queries
That from normalness depart,
And their ceaseless asking wearies
My hear
Things are and seem, and nothing bears
The secret of the life it wear
All thing’s presence e’er is asking
Questions of disturbing pain
With dreadful hesitation tasking
My brain
How false is truth? How much doth seem
Since dreams are all and all’s a drea
Before mystery my will faileth
Torn with war within the mind,