As shadows stretch to the east,
Laying down the world for sleep,
A turquoise sunset fades to ink
On diamond meadows spilled.
I dissolve in a dream,
Fancying the universe lets me in;
A million eyes, sometimes called stars,
Pensively wink at me.
I've been where stars can't glide to,
Have seen the universe from outside;
With raptured sinking heart,
Beheld it swaying among the alike.
The Without? so delicate –
Makes frightfully definite
What from within to a local mind
Had been so infinite.
Beyond cognition cast,
Through space having carved its path,
A beam of light on a mirror sparks –
And dives to a speck of dust.
What's inside the naught?
I've seen those colourful inner worlds.
A thing within will always be
For inner things, the without...
The within's thoroughness,
Its diverse minuteness,
Seems from without,
In shade of sky
A paltry commonness.
The Without? so delicate –
Makes frightfully definite
What from within
To a local mind
Had been so infinite.
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