My daily hours are twenty-five,
    (The last is fictive, I confess)
And yet in that I'm most alive,
    And touch my peak of happiness:
One exoteric moment I'm
    Outside of Time.

It mostly comes in dead of night,
    To wean me from the world away;
Or in the looming of the light,
    In loneliness at birth of day:
That Time extension comes to me,
    I know as Ecstasy.

Contentment crowns my common days,
    And Happiness in free I hold,
While on the shining peak of praise
    The light of joy is often gold:
But Ecstasy is known to few, -
    Oh, say, it come to you.

Not sourly dialed by the clock,
    Your hours be twenty-five;
One mystic moment. Time to mock,
    Transcendently to be alive:
Though dim the word, oh, may you be
    Sublimed to Ecstasy.