EPISODE

No matter what we dream,

        What we dream is true.

No matter what doth seem,

        God doth it view

And therefore it is

Real as all this.

No matter what we wish,

        We have it elsewhere

Now, e' er now, and rich

        Are we here of there.

Inside our felt I

God we self‑descry.

Sometimes I think hope

        May make this come true,

But I stop, I grope,

        And life, fear and woe

Is all that remains.

Wherefore then these pains,

This unrest that thrills

        With a possible joy

All the pain that fills

        Our hope till it cloy?

Wherefore this, wherefore

If all is unsure?

Oh, give me a breeze

        On a meadow land,

And let that breeze please

        Nor I understand.

For all anguish is

A vague wish for bliss.