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| I AM in love with high far-seeing places | |
| That look on plains half-sunlight and half-storm, | |
| In love with hours when from the circling faces | |
| Veils pass, and laughing fellowship glows warm. | |
| You who look on me with grave eyes where rapture | 5 |
| And April love of living burn confessed— | |
| The Gods are good! the world lies free to capture! | |
| Life has no walls. Oh, take me to your breast! | |
| Take me—be with me for a moment’s span! | |
| I am in love with all unveilèd faces. | 10 |
| I seek the wonder at the heart of man; | |
| I would go up to the far-seeing places. | |
| While youth is ours, turn toward me for a space | |
| The marvel of your rapture-lighted face! | |
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| There are strange shadows fostered of the moon, | 15 |
| More numerous than the clear-cut shade of day…. | |
| Go forth, when all the leaves whisper of June, | |
| Into the dusk of swooping bats at play; | |
| Or go into that late November dusk | |
| When hills take on the noble lines of death, | 20 |
| And on the air the faint astringent musk | |
| Of rotting leaves pours vaguely troubling breath. | |
| Then shall you see shadows whereof the sun | |
| Knows nothing—aye, a thousand shadows there | |
| Shall leap and flicker and stir and stay and run, | 25 |
| Like petrels of the changing foul or fair; | |
| Like ghosts of twilight, of the moon, of him | |
| Whose homeland lies past each horizon’s rim…. | |
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