These were strange And yet were forms of life, as I was too (With a soul superadded, understood) And kin to me, or so I thought, when young. For all seemed fashioned from the self-same stuff, Mythic gold yolk and glassy albumen Of ancient Egypt’s fabled Mundane Egg, Laid in the Void by sable-plumaged Night. From which sprang Eros, all in feathered light Who fecundated Chaos, wherein formed Germens of all that lives and moves on Earth. The Orphic fables in their riddling wit Pointed us there, perhaps, towards a truth.
