Page:Selected Poems (Huxley).djvu/56

 Of quiet hills that meet the gold Serenity of western skies. Over the world's edge with clear eyes Our mole transcendent sees his way Tunnelled in light: he must obey Necessity again and thrid Close catacombs as erst he did, Fate's tunnellings, himself must bore Through the sunset's inmost core. The guiding walls to each-hand shine Luminous and crystalline; And mole shall tunnel on and on, Till night let fall oblivion.