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Fine Chaos, p. 603

Opening Remarks
Though the realm was a happy one, yet it was not like an organised typal world. It seemed real as well as imaginary built by happy fragmentary states brought together.

Joy fled dancing past
In that fine chaos joy fled dancing past
And beauty evaded settled line and form
And hid its sense in mysteries of hue;
Yet gladness ever repeated the same notes
And gave the sense of an enduring world;
There was a strange consistency of shapes,
And the same thoughts were constant passers-by
And all renewed unendingly its charm
Alluring ever the expectant heart
Like music that one always waits to hear,
Like the recurrence of a haunting rhyme.

It was a world of beauty and joy but nothing was fixed in settled form or endured beyond fleeting moments. It was as if a mystery hid its sense in hues. The repetitive notes of gladness gave the sense of an enduring world. The shapes were consistent though fleeting by and thoughts bore sameness as they passed by. The charm was kept by unending renewal alluring the expectant heart like music one waits to hear or like the haunting rhyme that keeps returning itself.

Invisibly divine
One touched incessantly things never seized,
A skirt of worlds invisibly divine.

One felt a vague sense of divinity skirting past like things touched but never seized.

Unrealised bliss
As if a trail of disappearing stars
There showered upon the floating atmosphere
Colours and lights and evanescent gleams
That called to follow into a magic heaven,
And in each cry that fainted on the ear
There was the voice of an unrealised bliss.

It was as if a trail of stars were being showered with colours and lights and fast vanishing gleams calling towards some magical heaven. There was the voice of an unrealised bliss in each cry that touched the ear and vanished.

Elusive presence
An adoration reigned in the yearning heart,
A spirit of purity, an elusive presence
Of faery beauty and ungrasped delight
Whose momentary and escaping thrill,
However unsubstantial to our flesh,
And brief even in imperishableness,
Much sweeter seemed than any rapture known
Earth or all-conquering heaven can ever give.

The heart felt an adoration and a yearning with a spirit of purity turned towards an elusive presence of fairy-like beauty whose brief momentary thrill and ungrasped delight, unreal and unsubstantial to our flesh was yet felt sweeter than any known rapture that earth or heaven can ever give.

Closing Remarks
It is a world built by imagination and fleeting glimpses of the happiness of heaven.

The stones began falling in several directions at the same time, in places where there were neither doors nor windows.
All morality is a convention — man cannot live without conventions, mental and moral, otherwise he feels himself lost in the rolling sea of the anarchic forces of the vital Nature.