Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/97

Up to the heaven of heavens was I caught,
Whirled like a leaf, and dropped, a withered thing.
Those musings, insights, transports,—whence were they?
That made the pulses of my beating blood
Voices of the unknown Ineffable,
And dipped my eyes in prophecy and gleam
Of what the Intercessors half disclose,—
Poet and sculptor, painter, sage, musician,
The wisdom-lovers, heaven-dreamers all?
They, and their progeny, like leaves decay.
Where is the resurrection, O dry bones?
Answer, ye valleys of the sepulchre!"
The solitary echo paused afar.
⁠Nigh, from a clump of laurel, rose a voice:
"Would I had known thee in the world below,
Athenian," the Roamer heard one say;
And, looking, saw comrade with comrade couched
Companionable, in friendly converse linked.
The hyacinthine locks clung round a head
Apollo might have loved, so like a flower
The fair face gave itself unto the light.
The beauty of twenty centuries yet shone,
Immortal youth, upon his form divine,
And in his eyes a joyful radiance showed

The dawning of the soul. "O beautiful,