“There is a point between sleep and waking
Where thou shalt be alert without shaking.
Enter into the New World where forms so hideous pass.
They are passing, endure, do not be taken by the dross.
Then the pulls and pushes about the throttle,
All those shalt thou tolerate.
Close all ingress and egress, yawnings there may be;
Shed tears, crave, implore and thou will not prostrate.
A thrill passes and that goes down to the bottom,
It riseth-may it bloom forth. That is Bliss.
Blessed Being! Blessed Being! O greetings be to thee!”