The Sword of Song

PENTECOST 37 An explanation different For this particular event. Though surely I my find it queer That you should talk of self-hypnosis, When your own faith so very close is To similar experience ; Lies, in a word, beneath suspicion To ordinary common sense And logic’s emery attrition. I take, however, as before Your own opinion, and demand Some test by which to understand Huxley’s piano-talk,* and find If my hypnosis may not score A point against the normal mind. (As you are please to term it, though ! I gather that you do not know ; Merely infer it.) Here’s a test ! What in your whole life is the best Of all your memories ? They say You paint—I think you should one day Take me to seek your Studio— Tell me, when all your work goes right, Painted to match some inner light, What of the outer world you know ! Surely, your best work always finds Itself sole object of the mind’s. In vain you ply the brush, distracted By something you have heard or acted. Expect some tedious visitor— Your eye runs furtive to the door ; Your hand refuses to obey ; You throw the useless brush away. I think I hear the Word you say ! I practice then, with conscious power Watching my mind, each thought controlling, Hurling to nothingness, while rolling The thunders after lightning’s flower. * See his remarks upon the Rational pia no, and the conclusions to which the evidence of its senses would lead it. 595 600 605 610 615 620 625 A test. The artist’s concen- tration on his work. Yogi but a more vigorous artist. Indignation of poet suppressed by Yogi and philosopher alike.