We are selfish men
And what has changed since 1802
Only the storage and transmission
Not the content of our knowledge

All can view the mountains
In their disordered counterfeits
And the wealthy regard it a birthright
To be carried to the summit

If only I could open myself
To the here and now
I would hear the Orphic severed head sing downstream
See Poseidon drive his horses shoreward

But thou my beloved art here with me now
In the nakedness past nakedness
In fulfillment of our promise
To share again our blissful dissolution