Will you be my refuge, My haven in the storm, Will you keep the embers warm, When my fire's all but gone? Will you remember, And bring me sprigs of rosemary, Be my sanctuary, 'Til I can carry on, Carry on.
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When I have gazed into a tidal pool And seen the texture exquisite of stone, Of life and plant, deep in the lucid cool, It seems no greater wonder could be known. Yet there's a cleanness I have known in dreams -- In those rare dreams that are like blessed wine -- A pure transparency wherein it seems Is traced the form of the Creator's line. Distinct and clear appears each one and thing, And every grain of sand, as though I see Through unseen water; and the angels sing An unheard tone from heaven's melody.
So wonder grows to crystal-cut lucidity Defining the great pattern of eternity.