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.