On lonely shores where dreams are drifted sand He follows to the end a star's bright course, A ghostly hunter without hound or horse, The warrior bard, last of the Druid band; But still his wizard harp rings in his hand Beside the Stream of Sorrow's hidden source, Still from a breaking heart his wild songs force Their way into the god's mysterious land. Dauntless he sings, and sees the drear wood turn To golden orchards by the river bed Where healing waters of the rainbow run; And past the valley near great peaks that burn With beaconing fire, the hero-bard is led Up toward the Dragon City of the Sun. |