[BNP/E3, 49A1 – 20]

This Notebook begun March 1906.

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X

Yet is there ought of death and of unbeing

In the still presence of this antique land.

As if eyes had expression, yet not seeing,

(Horrible thought my soul can understand)

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The infinite, the eternal, the unbounded,

Have thrown themselves thus into {…} form

As if e’en thought could be serenely and rounded,

From the elements of the storm.

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[20v]

If we think to find contradictions in their (Hark, Spir, Leil) mysteries it is because we cannot understand them; their unity and force escape us.

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