COME FRIEND, who can free me from bonds of toil, for I lag behind while the pilgrims rush to follow their vision. Come like a sudden flood that runs with its offerings to the sea, Sweep me away from the load that drags me down. Come from among the crowd, you, to whom I fully belong, who can call me by my own true name and smile and be known to me for ever.
I FEEL THAT your brief days of love have not been left behind in those scanty years of your life. I seek to know in what place, away from the slow-thieving dust, you keep them now. I find in my solitude some song of your evening that died, yet left a deathless echo; and the sighs of your unsatisfied hours I find nestled in the warm quiet of the autumn noon. Your desires come from the hive of the past to haunt my heart, and I sit still to listen to their wings.
