They said, because their parcel-thought

might nor her shadowy vast embrace,

nor be refurl’d within that nought

which is the hid heart of all place,

they said: She is not anywhere!

have we not sought her and not seen?

nor is there found in earth or air

a sign to tell if she hath been!

— O fools and blind, not to have found!

is her desire not as your own?

stirs she not in the arms that round

a hopeless clasp, lone with the lone!

And the tense lips towards her bliss

in secret cells of anguish’d prayer

might know her in the broken kiss

she prompts nor, prompting, fails to share.

We drift from age to age nor waste

our strenuous song’s exultant tone,

disdaining or to rest or haste:

because each place is still our throne.