On the underside of wonder when delight first takes a hold, In the whisperings of morning ere the sun has bubbled gold, I imbind my arms about you while so silently you sleep, And my mind is snuggling inward round the dream that it will keep. When we waken, oh! the sunlight! it will have less light to give Than the dream we are creating in each minute that we live. And the day will have its vision and leap up with love's delight To the joy that is our triumph in our kisses burning bright. We won't fail---it is forbidden! though all others, they may pause, We're determined, we are driven, by our own internal laws. For the rightness of our loving is a holiness so rare, We're as gods beyond forgiving who disdain all common care. There are many who'd enchain us, saying, "Loving's not for you; If some loveless you're not loving, then to duty you're not true." But we put all duties by us, yea, we cast them down in scorn; We are true to our own egos as the masters we were born. "Oh, what sinners," they are saying, "who put others down below; They are needy, they are praying, will you clip them such a blow?" "Oh you worser than all evil," we respond with righteous voice; "Good-of-others is your Satan, it's your own self-killing choice. "It is man you have forsaken, it's your mind that you deny, And each prayer of your own making is your wishing but to die. But we lovers of our loving, who are waking up so strong, We're the truest of the new ones giving glory to man's song!" On the underside of wonder, when delight first takes a hold, In the whisperings of morning ere the sun has bubbled gold, I imbind my arms about you while so silently you sleep, And my mind is snuggling inward round the dream that it will keep.