| GO from me: I am one of those who fall. | |
| What! hath no cold wind swept your heart at all, | |
| In my sad company? Before the end, | |
| Go from me, dear my friend! | |
| |
| Yours are the victories of light: your feet | 5 |
| Rest from good toil, where rest is brave and sweet: | |
| But after warfare in a mourning gloom, | |
| I rest in clouds of doom. | |
| |
| Have you not read so, looking in these eyes? | |
| Is it the common light of the pure skies, | 10 |
| Lights up their shadowy depths? The end is set: | |
| Though the end be not yet. | |
| |
| When gracious music stirs, and all is bright, | |
| And beauty triumphs through a courtly night; | |
| When I too joy, a man like other men: | 15 |
| Yet, am I like them, then? | |
| |
| And in the battle, when the horsemen sweep | |
| Against a thousand deaths, and fall on sleep: | |
| Who ever sought that sudden calm, if I | |
| Sought not? yet could not die! | 20 |
| |
| Seek with thine eyes to pierce this crystal sphere: | |
| Canst read a fate there, prosperous and clear? | |
| Only the mists, only the weeping clouds, | |
| Dimness and airy shrouds. | |
| |
| Beneath, what angels are at work? What powers | 25 |
| Prepare the secret of the fatal hours? | |
| See! the mists tremble, and the clouds are stirred: | |
| When comes the calling word? | |
| |
| The clouds are breaking from the crystal ball, | |
| Breaking and clearing: and I look to fall. | 30 |
| When the cold winds and airs of portent sweep, | |
| My spirit may have sleep. | |
| |
| O rich and sounding voices of the air! | |
| Interpreters and prophets of despair: | |
| Priests of a fearful sacrament! I come, | 35 |
| To make with you mine home. | |
