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The primal and unpardoned revolt that broke The peace and silence of the Nothingness Which was before a seeming universe Appeared in a vanity of imagined Space And life arose engendering grief and pain: A great Negation was the Real's face Prohibiting the vain process of Time: And when there is no world, no creature more, When Time's intrusion has been blotted out, It shall last, unbodied, saved from thought, at peace. Accursed in what had been her godhead source, Condemned to live for ever empty of bliss, Her immortality her chastisement, Her spirit, guilty of being, wandered doomed, Moving for ever through eternal Night. But Maya is a veil of the Absolute; A Truth occult has made this mighty world: The Eternal's wisdom and self-knowledge act In ignorant Mind and in the body's steps. The Inconscient is the Superconscient's sleep. An unintelligible Intelligence Invents creation's paradox profound; Spiritual thought is crammed in Matter's forms, Unseen it throws out a dumb energy And works a miracle by a machine. All here is a mystery of contraries: Darkness a magic of self-hidden Light, Suffering some secret rapture's tragic mask And death an instrument of perpetual life. Although Death walks beside us on Life's road, A dim bystander at the body's start And a last judgment on man's futile works, Other is the riddle of its ambiguous face: Death is a stair, a door, a stumbling stride The soul must take to cross from birth to birth, A grey defeat pregnant with victory, 
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