When I had seen the withering grass,
I wished for crystal in its leaf.
I saw the swan, death-loving, pass,
And watched the pole star of belief
Shift and swing in a golden arc
Till I was sure the earth was turned
In a mad whirl of light and dark [...]
Say not my eyes are a return;
Though I have been in many lands,
Volcanic peaks of time still burn
And throw a flame upon my hands.
Say not my voice is music's mood
When music accents song alone.
Though I have crossed heart's longitude,
The lat [...]