We need no barbarous words nor solemn spell br To raise the unknown. It lies before our feet; br There have been men who sank down into Hell br In some suburban street, br br And some there are that in their daily walks br Have met archangels fresh from sight of God, br Or watched how in their beans and cabbage-stalks br Long files of faerie trod. br br Often me too the Living voices call br In many a vulgar and habitual place, br I catch a sight of lands beyond the wall, br I see a strange god’s face. br br And some day this work will work upon me so br I shall arise and leave both friends and home br And over many lands a pilgrim go br Through alien woods and foam, br br Seeking the last steep edges of the earth br Whence I may leap into that gulf of light br Wherein, before my narrowing Self had birth, br Part of me lived aright.