The word ‘compulsion’ spurs my heart ahead

While those who lack love feel ensnared instead,

It’s not compulsion but divine communion,

Not clouds, but the full moon in total union;

If it’s compulsion it’s a special kind,

Not that commanding self’s type which is blind:

Compulsion like this few identify,

God’s given these men’s hearts an inner eye—

Hidden things and the future they can see,

Mention the past near them is blasphemy!