This Book is written by Arthur Osborne
A pretty children’s tale is found
Of how a lady slept spell-bound
Through time’s long night, till for her sake
A daring rescuer should break
Through many perils and with a kiss
Wake her to endless bliss.
In each man’s heart she sleeps, her dower
The lost domain of man’s true power.
The same she is
As that coiled serpent of the East
Who, when released,
Strikes up from stage to higher stage
Till, breaking through the mental cage
Blaze the white-shining ecstasies.
First the wise man gave the knight
The sword of concentration, bright,
Invulnerable; for defence
A cloak, invisible to sense,
Of pure detachment. Yet alone
The hero fought and won.
Where many fell along the way
To visions, learning, pride, display;
To harlots claiming to be her
Whose waking wakes her rescuer;
Or taverns where the weaklings rest
Called but not chosen for the quest.
Blest now the land!
Humbled the tyrant mind!
Freedom erect to stand
For all mankind!
Now, ever after…
Joy, serene laughter!
Fallen the prison wall
Rooftree and rafter!
Never to be built again
Life’s house of pain,