ONE day when the wind rode high, Suddenly I missed her!— In bright battalions from the sky A host of singing leaves swept by— Then the wind was still—but I Could not find my sister! Round this mortal world, so old, I have sought her, calling, Where pink-petaled dawns unfold Where the blue ice cracks with cold, Where the full moon hides her gold And the stars are falling! By the ways of Here and There I have searched, unbidden, Climbed the sinking sun's bright stair, Told her name to every air, Echoed it in caverns where Purple night lies hidden! Never has she answered me, Not with song nor sighing— Can such utter silence be With a bird on every tree, With the singing of the sea And a white gull crying? Help me, children, mortal-born! Help me, lark and swallow, Should you meet a sprite forlorn, Hair like tassel of the corn, @3Blow the honeysuckle's horn@1— I will hear and follow! |