O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.

A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?

A day may sink or save a realm.

And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

Rich in saving common-sense, And, as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime.

The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

Here at the quiet limit of the world.