THE ANSWER

O, my feet have worn a track

Deep and old in going back.

Thought released turns to its home

As bees through tangling thickets come.

One way of thought leads to the vast

Desert of the mind, and there is lost,

But backward leads to a dancing light

And myself there, stiff with delight.

O, well my thought has trodden a way

From this brief day to that long day.