I I climb them step by step -- The vanished years. Stumbling, I pause to look below Down wells of time, so black, so deep Their waters keep No sound, Nor show a star, Nor hold a memory. II Sometimes I kneel and look above That dark stairway At years to come; My fingers clasp my fears, Where my hopes go. Up there beyond that last, gray step, Afar, Within that roof of mist, What is that shape in flight, Dim, strong and slow? III "A wing," some say; Some answer, "Love"; And some say, "Night And sleep." But I? I do not know. |