[SECTION I] Unheard‑of fathoms in the deep sea, In cool caves deep (The spoils of battle are not for thee) For ever sleep. No upward vision or shining mount Rewards thy pain. The secret angel keepeth no count Of thy lost gain. On the sphynx's mouth the tale is dead, The path grass grown. Our sorrow shall follow where thout hast led, Through the Unknown. Waitest thou hidden, or quiet rest What silence forbids? Give us at least thy unobtained quest And the flowered meads. [SECTION II] Already the sea is a whitening line Along my wish, And the wind is coming shadowy and fine With its eerie reach To touch my common despair and pain, My wonder and night, The subtle sense of the coming rain And my lost delight. The missing reason for having love Is quiet with these, The secret vision, the shining grove And the final trees.
