I have recovered it. What? Eternity. It is the sea Matched with the sun. My sentinel soul, Let us murmur the vow Of the night so void And of the fiery day. Of human sanctions, Of common transports, You free yourself: You soar according . . . From your ardor alone, Embers of satin, Duty exhales, Without any one saying: at last. Never a hope; No genesis. Skill with patience . . . Anguish is certain. I have recovered it. What? Eternity. It is the sea Matched with the sun. |