Via Obscura

I SEEK, with those who roam afar from light,
The moon’s face never turned; the under snow;
The circle just outside the lantern glow
Rustling with wings and wet with forest night ;
The streets that run obliquely from the sight
Of peering sunshine to an antique row
Where pilèd armor, bowl, and censer show
The smouldering dreams of monk and sybarite.

I seek the coverts of the human mind.
Beyond its false and simple masquerade,
That pasture irony and half-desire;
The caves where wind of daylight never strayed;
The black and brooding mines, wherein I find
The fundamental origin of fire.