THE Powers whose name and shape no living creature knows Have
pulled the Immortal Rose; And
though the Seven Lights bowed in their dance and wept, The
Polar Dragon slept, His
heavy rings uncoiled from glimmering deep to deep: When
will he wake from sleep? Great
Powers of falling wave and wind and windy fire, With
your harmonious choir Encircle
her I love and sing her into peace, That
my old care may cease; Unfold
your flaming wings and cover out of sight The
nets of day and night. Dim
powers of drowsy thought, let her no longer be Like
the pale cup of the sea, When
winds have gathered and sun and moon burned dim Above
its cloudy rim; But
let a gentle silence wrought with music flow Whither her footsteps go. |
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