I saw him naked on a hill Above a world of gold, And coming by, so still, so still, The sheep within his fold. He strode along that golden air, A rosy-bodied fool, With wonder-dripping dreams as fair As starlight in a pool. He sang of old, forgotten springs Of worship in the sky, And longing passionate with wings, And vision that must die. His body and his spirit glowed For joy that they were one, And from his heart the music flowed Into the setting sun. I hurried as the light grew dim, And left him far behind, Yet still I heard his joyous hymn Come faintly down the wind. |