Away, away — Through that strange void and vast Brimmed with dying day; Away,
So that I feel Only the wind Of the world's swift-rolling wheel. See what a maze
Of whirling rays! The sharp wind Weakens; the air Is but thin air,
Not fume and flying fire.... O, heart's desire, Now thou art still And the air chill.
And but a stem Of clear cold light Shines in this stony dark. Farewell, world of sense,
Too fair, too fair To be so false! Hence, hence Rosy memories,
Delight of ears, hands, eyes. Rise When I bid, O thou Tide of the dark,
Whelming the pale last, Reflection of that vast Too-fair deceit. Ah, sweet
To miss the vexing heat Of the heart's desire: Only to know All's lost, lost....
Sweet To know the lack of sweet. — Thou fool! See how the steady dark
Is filled with eyes — Eyes that smile, Hot, then how cool! Eyes that were stars till thou
Mad'st them eyes. O, the tormenting Look, the unrelenting Passionate kiss
Of their wild light on thine — Light of thine eyes! As if one could Loathe the world for too much sweetness!
All the air's a flame, Wonderful — yet the same Thou'st hated, Being briefly sated
With sweet of sweetness. Forgive a heart whose madness Was not of madness born, But of mere wild
Waste of desire.... Who does not know One speaks so, or so, Out of mere passion
That sees not love From hate, nor life from death, Nor hell from heaven? In the East — oh, that flashed
Brightness, past The loveliness even Of sunset's flush!
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