The key is yielding to my grasp

Yet selfish would I be to hold

it in a tight and painful grasp.


What thou showed me, what I saw

Were things like angels: warm and bright.

I never knew of these before,


And that which spills onto my hand

When I turn the Yielding Key

is something from a distant land.


Another key! But this is thine

and close I cradle thee to me.

For thou are great and true: divine.


And secrets of this dazzling world

are mine and thine to know, my sweet.

The sun, the moon, the stars and pearls.

The End

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