Forever in my dream & in my morning thought

Forever in my dream & in my morning thought
Eastward a mount ascends —
But when in the sunbeam its hard outline is sought —
It all dissolves & ends.
The woods that way are gates — the pastures too slope up
To an unearthly ground —
But when I ask my mates, to take the staff & cup,
It can no more be found —
Perchance I have no shoes fit for the lofty soil
Where my thoughts graze —
No properly spun clues — nor well strained mid day oil
Or — must I mend my ways?
It is a promised land which I have not yet earned,
I have not made beginning
With consecrated hand — I have not even learned
To lay the underpinning.
The mountain sinks by day — as do my lofty thoughts,
Because I'm not highminded.
If I could think alway above these hills & warts
I should see it, though blinded.
It is a spiral path within the pilgrim's soul
Leads to this mountain's brow
Commencing at his hearth he reaches to this goal
He knows not when nor how.