WHERE I shall find her matters not, So that she be The long-imagined, un-forgot Lost complement of me. "Love of an hundred lives,—whose soul Is linked with mine, Whose quest the Gods have made my goal,— A sign! A sign!" The teasing Fates that sport with men And blind their view, Illude with phantoms, jeering when I take the false for true; I leave their lures, and, searching, go Secure and strong, Because I know she waits—But, oh, How long? How long? When I have found her, we, made wise Through sins untold, Chastened and cleansed by all that lies, Lived, in those lives of old, Shall seek the Sacred Shrines and cry For our release; "Grant us, oh, High Gods, leave to die ... And lasting peace!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GREEN MOUNTAIN IDYL by HAYDEN CARRUTH FOREST FLOWERS by ROBERT FROST THE ORANGE PICKER by DAVID IGNATOW |