I see the golden hunter go, With his hound star close at heel, Through purple fallows above the hill, When the large autumn night is still And the tide of the world is low. And while to their unwearied quest The sister Pleiads pass, That seventh loveliest and lost Desire of all the orient host Is here upon my breast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG OF TWO CROWS by HAYDEN CARRUTH JONES'S PRIVATE ARGYMENT by SIDNEY LANIER DOMESDAY BOOK: THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS GOD AND MY COUNTRY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DILIGENCE IS TO MAGIC AS PROGRESS IS TO FLIGHT by MARIANNE MOORE TO A MAN WORKING HIS WAY THROUGH THE CROWD by MARIANNE MOORE |