Harlequinade
Now that I know the day of dreams will pass
in which some harlequin played a title-role
now to be nearly through the rigmarole
of capering beside a looking-glass
now that I catch, outside this gesturing play
the honey colour music of the day
and sip the amazing sweetness of the dark
now I shall go in peace upon my way
out of the body, past the mind’s smudged mark
now to be near the universal spark
now that I know an end comes to this farce
and my poor self gone, still there is a soul.