An ode.it reads:
There is a freedom found in knowing you,
Although I err recall your love unspoken,
And love you keep in knowing something true,
That this my bond is also still unbroken.
Though mind obscure the paths in faith you take,
And though my muses occlude my surety failed,
The strangest thing to me does now awake!
A word, a ring, a thing we've now availed.
This cord of three strands is the metaphor,
For o'er the world our homeland's now the same
Through mood or mask we share a common door
Our hall unkempt has borne the only name.
Never will you know nor I my own;
And yet somehow we are soon fully known.