By George Sterling
I waited thee thro sacrificial years, And till thou earnest all my soul was blind. Tis written, "He that seeketh, he shall find," And I have sought thy face in all the spheres, Still haunted by the voice that no man hears Save from the Love unknown but well divined. O Rose beyond the questings of the wind 1 O Star mine eyes must see thro many tears! Thou art the silence in my soul, and thou The kiss of things unseen upon my brow. O loveliness the sorrowed night hath dreamed And dawn found perfect! Harp of mystery Upon whose chords forgotten moons have gleamed, Within whose voice are voices of the sea!