by: Agnes Mary Frances
- ENEATH this world of stars and
- That rolls in visible deity,
- I dream another world is ours
- And is the soul of all we see.
- It hath no form, it hath no spirit;
- It is perchance the Eternal Mind;
- Beyond the sense that we inherit
- I feel it dim and undefined.
- How far below the depth of being,
- How wide beyond the starry bound
- It rolls unconscious and unseeing,
- And is as Number or as Sound.
- And through the vast fantastic visions
- Of all this actual universe,
- It moves unswerved by our decisions,
- And is the play that we rehearse.
MORE POEMS BY AGNES MARY FRANCES DUCLAUX
"The Idea" is reprinted
from The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. Ed. Nicholson
& Lee. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1917.