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.