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				Title:     Scenes Of The Mind 
			    Author: Aldous Huxley [More Titles by Huxley ]		                
			     I have run where festival was loudWith drum and brass among the crowd
 Of panic revellers, whose cries
 Affront the quiet of the skies;
 Whose dancing lights contract the deep
 Infinity of night and sleep
 To a narrow turmoil of troubled fire.
 And I have found my heart's desire
 In beechen caverns that autumn fills
 With the blue shadowiness of distant hills;
 Whose luminous grey pillars bear
 The stooping sky: calm is the air,
 Nor any sound is heard to mar
 That crystal silence--as from far,
 Far off a man may see
 The busy world all utterly
 Hushed as an old memorial scene.
 Long evenings I have sat and been
 Strangely content, while in my hands
 I held a wealth of coloured strands,
 Shimmering plaits of silk and skeins
 Of soft bright wool. Each colour drains
 New life at the lamp's round pool of gold;
 Each sinks again when I withhold
 The quickening radiance, to a wan
 And shadowy oblivion
 Of what it was. And in my mind
 Beauty or sudden love has shined
 And wakened colour in what was dead
 And turned to gold the sullen lead
 Of mean desires and everyday's
 Poor thoughts and customary ways.
 Sometimes in lands where mountains throw
 Their silent spell on all below,
 Drawing a magic circle wide
 About their feet on every side,
 Robbed of all speech and thought and act,
 I have seen God in the cataract.
 In falling water and in flame,
 Never at rest, yet still the same,
 God shows himself. And I have known
 The swift fire frozen into stone,
 And water frozen changelessly
 Into the death of gems. And I
 Long sitting by the thunderous mill
 Have seen the headlong wheel made still,
 And in the silence that ensued
 Have known the endless solitude
 Of being dead and utterly nought.
 Inhabitant of mine own thought,
 I look abroad, and all I see
 Is my creation, made for me:
 Along my thread of life are pearled
 The moments that make up the world.
 
 
 
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