I.
Others must by a long dark way
Stray to the mystic bards
Or ask some one who has heard them sing
Or touch the magic chords.
Only the maidens question not
The bridges that lead to Dream;
Their luminous smiles are like strands of pearls
On a silver vase agleam.
The maidens’ doors of Life lead out
Where the song of the poet soars
And out beyond to the great world—
To the world beyond the doors.
II.
Maidens the poets learn from you to tell
How solitary and remote you are
As night is lighted by one high bright star
They draw light from the distance where you dwell.
For poet you must always maiden be
Even though his eyes the woman in you wake
Wedding brocade your fragile wrists would break
Mysterious elusive from him flee.
Within his garden let him wait alone
Where benches stand expectant in the shade
Within the chamber where the lyre was played
Where he received you as the eternal One.
Go! It grows dark—your voice and form no more
His senses seek; he now no longer sees
A white robe fluttering under dark beech trees
Along the pathway where it gleamed before.
He loves the long paths where no footfalls ring
And he loves much the silent chamber where
Like a soft whisper through the quiet air
He hears your voice far distant vanishing.
The softly stealing echo comes again
From crowds of men whom wearily he shuns;
And many see you there—so his thought runs—
And tenderest memories are pierced with pain.