Let His Dwelling Grow

Let His Dwelling Grow  

Let him retain his secret self unseen—  

A quiet core beneath the outer guise.  

His thoughts drift far, where none have ever been,  

Untouched by earthbound sound or sorrowed cries. 

He shapes his fate by sovereign will alone,  

And spends his hours by choice, not blind decree.  

Yet boredom gnaws the pleasure of his throne  

And drives him forth through mists no eye can see. 

There in the vale, he finds his kindred near,  

Who sense he will not linger long nor bind.  

Though bonds may blaze, they break with subtle shear,  

And leave him free to seek the world around. 

But if the world no solace can bestow,  

He’ll turn to kin, and let his dwelling grow.