Leave us some message for our comfort. Tell
Us Beauty-seekers how we may attain,
How we may hope to hale our Goddess down
From coursing on the high star-haunted hills,
She only breathes that thin transcendant air,
Drinking the clear spring at its icy source,
And we who fain would climb, grow faint and fall,
Since Very Beauty, true Philosophy
Dwell far, so far!
Peregrina:
O single-hearted, seek!
What though the quest should seem as vain as his,
Who strives to trace the sources of the Nile,
Yet sometime it has chanc'd clear vision'd men
Have almost found the very Beauty's fount,
As Spring-diviners with their speaking staves,
Threading the forest light on hidden wells.
Sculptor, musician, painter, poet, aye
The poet chiefly maybe, as he leans
