LEGEND
Whereare you hid from me, belovèd oneThat I am seeking through the lonelyworld—A wanderer, on my way home to you?Dark is the night and perilous the road:At many a breast in longing have I leaned,At many a wayside worshipped; and my heartIs tired from long travelling.PerhapsIn centuries to come you wait for me,And are as yet an iris by the streamLifting her single blossom, or the faintTremulous haze upon the hills—and weHave missed each other.O if it be so,Then may this song reach to the verge ofdoom—Ages unborn—to find you where you are,My lonely one; and like a murmuring string,Faint with one music, endlessly repeatTo you, not even knowing I was yours,Her plaintive burden from the dolorous past:Telling of one upon a hopelessquest—How in the dark of Time he lost his way!
Whereare you hid from me, belovèd oneThat I am seeking through the lonelyworld—A wanderer, on my way home to you?Dark is the night and perilous the road:At many a breast in longing have I leaned,At many a wayside worshipped; and my heartIs tired from long travelling.PerhapsIn centuries to come you wait for me,And are as yet an iris by the streamLifting her single blossom, or the faintTremulous haze upon the hills—and weHave missed each other.O if it be so,Then may this song reach to the verge ofdoom—Ages unborn—to find you where you are,My lonely one; and like a murmuring string,Faint with one music, endlessly repeatTo you, not even knowing I was yours,Her plaintive burden from the dolorous past:Telling of one upon a hopelessquest—How in the dark of Time he lost his way!
Whereare you hid from me, belovèd oneThat I am seeking through the lonelyworld—A wanderer, on my way home to you?
Whereare you hid from me, belovèd one
That I am seeking through the lonelyworld—
A wanderer, on my way home to you?
Dark is the night and perilous the road:At many a breast in longing have I leaned,At many a wayside worshipped; and my heartIs tired from long travelling.
Dark is the night and perilous the road:
At many a breast in longing have I leaned,
At many a wayside worshipped; and my heart
Is tired from long travelling.
PerhapsIn centuries to come you wait for me,And are as yet an iris by the streamLifting her single blossom, or the faintTremulous haze upon the hills—and weHave missed each other.
Perhaps
In centuries to come you wait for me,
And are as yet an iris by the stream
Lifting her single blossom, or the faint
Tremulous haze upon the hills—and we
Have missed each other.
O if it be so,Then may this song reach to the verge ofdoom—Ages unborn—to find you where you are,My lonely one; and like a murmuring string,Faint with one music, endlessly repeat
O if it be so,
Then may this song reach to the verge ofdoom—
Ages unborn—to find you where you are,
My lonely one; and like a murmuring string,
Faint with one music, endlessly repeat
To you, not even knowing I was yours,Her plaintive burden from the dolorous past:Telling of one upon a hopelessquest—How in the dark of Time he lost his way!
To you, not even knowing I was yours,
Her plaintive burden from the dolorous past:
Telling of one upon a hopelessquest—
How in the dark of Time he lost his way!