Now while the sunset offers, Shall we not take our own: The gems, the blazing coffers, The seas, the shores, the throne? The sky-ships, radiant-masted, Move out, bear low our way. Oh, Life was dark while it lasted, Now for enduring day. Now with the world far under, To draw up drowning men And show them lands of wonder Where they may build again. There earthly sorrow falters, There longing has its wage; There gleam the ivory altars Of our lost pilgrimage. —Swift flame—then shipwrecks only Beach in the ruined light; Above them reach up lonely The headlands of the night. A hurt bird cries and flutters Her dabbled breast of brown; The Western wall unshutters To fling one last rose down. A rose, a wild light after— And life calls through the years, "Who dreams my fountain's laughter Shall feed my wells with tears." |