But an ebbing twilight carries my thought
Beyond every coast it would anchor off.
Like a reef-bell rocking and ringing low,
Under a grey and rain-swept sky,
The beauty I follow doth come and go,
And if I found it, I should die.
The wild-bird of my longing sings
Always in the next hollow,
And always, always it spreads its wings,
When I cross the hill to follow.
All! Once when the burning noon was poured
On moss and stone and dreaming sod,
I saw the great blue flower that God
Made for the Son of God.
And do you think I can go content,
With the beauty we meet with everywhere,
When I have breathed that flower's scent
And seen it melt into the air?
Oh, I must follow it high and low,
Though it leave me cold to your human touch,
Some starry sorcery made me so;
And from my birth have I been such.
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64
THE SATURNIAN