Contentment lies beneath the loam
Of frozen fields as yet unplowed;
It flies beyond seraphic skies,
Untouched, unfelt, and disallowed.
As errant knights before me rode
For grail bound, ‘neath rampant shield,
So do I make fearless quest
And seek contentment’s bounteous weal.
But whither I? Where shall I seek
To find the rarest prize of all?
Where its lodgings, where under heav’n
Does make its place in blissful hall?
I know not yet, but still I find
That I, undaunted, love this quest:
To find myself, at once, at last,
Ahold the beautiful and best.