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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SEEKERS, by                    
First Line: Oh, pity, thou, the seekers
Last Line: They march -- the crucified!

Oh, pity, thou, the seekers,
The unrequited seekers
Whose ships set sail for harbors
Through mist-enshrouded shoals.
They're hounded by dim raptures,
By lost oblivious raptures
As futile and as urgent
And tenuous as their goals.

These know the task unfinished,
These know the mistral chill;
With ardor undiminished
They seek new havens still.

With ineffectual cargoes,
With starry, sorry cargoes
They cleave the far Aegean
With proud and splendid prow.
But the sought-for land of promise,
The fabulous land of promise
Has never been unhidden,
And never will be now.

These seek the realm of wonders,
Whose rims outrun their stride;
Untamed by portent thunders
They march -- the Crucified!

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