In the deep cave of the heart, far down,
Running under the outward shows of the world
and of people,
Running under geographies, continents, under the fields
and the roots of the grasses and trees, under the little
thoughts and dreams of men, and the history of races,
Deep, far down,
I see feel and hear wondrous and divine things.
Voices and faces are there; arms of lovers, known and
unknown, reach forward and fold me;
Words float, and fragrance of Time ascends, and Life
ever circling.
Edward Carpenter. 1912. Towards Democracy.