POETRY: A Magazine of Verse
TO ONE UNKNOWN
I have seen the proudest stars
That wander on through space,
Even the sun and moon,
But not your face.
I have heard the violin,
The winds and waves rejoice
In endless minstrelsy,
Yet not your voice.
I have touched the trillium,
Pale flower of the land,
Coral, anemone,
And nor your hand.
I have kissed the shining feet
Of Twilight lover-wise,
Opened the gates of Dawn—
Oh not your eyes!
I have dreamed unwonted things,
Visions that witches brew,
Spoken with images,
Never with you.
[10]
