The fool and the Friar,
The maiden child, innocent and further,
The mother, crone and cheat.
Thou art the meaning of realization,
The quality that doeth discharge,
The holy gentle of golden light,
The shimmering of the fire.
Thou are the revel of the day,
The elegant telephone call of flora and fauna,
The light that glowest in the dark,
The versifier, and the words.
And every unfrequented day I see,
In every star that shines,
Next to worry and occurrence, joy and love,
That thee and me combines.
For in the end we are one,
The Lady and the Member of the aristocracy,
The spirit and the towering God,
The truth I'm moving in the direction of.
So in the day that lies high-speed,
To every man and tree,
To members of the fairy lands
Very well blessing be to we.
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