Let on my brow thy hand so gently fall,
That I be not aware how late it grows;
That, what we in long even-tides recall
Fill our remaining journey with repose;
Thine eyes brought all the peace my being knows.
Let on my brow thy hand so gently fall.
That I be not aware how late it grows.
7. MARCO POLO.
I, Marco Polo, Christian and Venetian,
Acknowledge God the Trinity and cherish
Hope of salvation in eternity
For my sin-laden soul: In this my faith,
In this my trust is set. What of my love,
Ye ask? And I give answer tranquilly:
My love is long and distant journeys; ever
New-found horizons, new-found peoples, fresh
Exploits on ocean and dry land, and ever
Fresh enterprises. (This, my forebears' blood)
Much have I seen, to much have given ear;
I reached the land, whereof ye scarce have inkling,
Where amber grows like golden foliage,
Where salamanders (that ye dub asbestos)
Blossom and blaze like lilies petrified,
Where glowing naphtha gushes from the earth,
Where there is equal wealth of rubies, as
