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Unity The primrose has her gentle root A hundred miles beyond the sod, Deep buried in the Absolute, Safe in the inmost will of God. The One Thing that is everything, Is very close to grass and trees; Hers is the song the satyrs sing, Th wild fern clings about her knees. And Psyche’s lamp, and Buddha’s dream, Those words that shall not fade or pass, Are but the lilt of a lost stream That flows under the world’s grass. Eva Selina Gore-Booth 1870-1926