YOUR WINDOW half opened and veil half raised you stand there waiting for the bangle-seller to come with his tinsel. You idly watch the heavy cart creak on in the dusty road, and the boat-mast crawling along the horizon across the far-off river.
The world to you is like an old woman's chant at her spinning-wheel, unmeaning rhymes crowded with random images.
But who knows if he is on his way this lazy sultry noon, the Stranger, carrying his basket of strange wares. He will pass by your door with his clear cry, and you shall fling open your window, cast off your veil, come out of the dusk of your dreams and meet your destiny.

ALL FRUITLESS is the cry,
All vain this burning fire of desire.
The sun goes down to his rest.
There is gloom in the forest and glamour in the sky.
With downcast look and lingering steps
The evening star conies in the wake of departing day
And the breath of the twilight is deep with the fulness of a farewell feeling.
I clasp both thine hands in mine,
and keep thine eyes prisoner with my hungry eyes;
Seeing and crying. Where art thou,
Where, O, where!
Where is the immortal flame hidden in the depth of thee!
As in the solitary star of the dark evening sky
The light of heaven, with its immense mystery, is quivering,
In thine eyes, in the depth of their darkness
There shines a soul-beam tremulous with a wide mystery.
Speechless I gaze upon it.
And I plunge with all my heart
Into the deep of a fathomless longing:
I lose myself.

THEY EXPECT thanks for the banished nest
because their cage is shapely and secure.