And seek for the lands no foot has trod and the seas no sail has known:

For the lands to the west of the evening and east of the morning's birth,

Where the gods unseen in their valleys green are glad at the ends of the earth

And fear no morrow to bring them sorrow, nor night to quench their mirth.

XXXV. Hesperus

Through the starry hollow

Of the summer night

I would follow, follow

Hesperus the bright,

To seek beyond the western wave

His garden of delight.

Hesperus the fairest

Of all gods that are,

Peace and dreams thou bearest

In thy shadowy car,

And often in my evening walks

I've blessed thee from afar.

Stars without number,

Dust the noon of night,

Thou the early slumber

And the still delight

Of the gentle twilit hours

Rulest in thy right.

When the pale skies shiver,

Seeing night is done,

Past the ocean-river,

Lightly thou dost run,

To look for pleasant, sleepy lands,

That never fear the sun.

Where, beyond the waters

Of the outer sea,

Thy triple crown of daughters

That guards the golden tree

Sing out across the lonely tide

A welcome home to thee.

And while the old, old dragon

For joy lifts up his head,

They bring thee forth a flagon

Of nectar foaming red,

And underneath the drowsy trees

Of poppies strew thy bed.

Ah! that I could follow

In thy footsteps bright,

Through the starry hollow

Of the summer night,

Sloping down the western ways

To find my heart's delight!

XXXVI. The Star Bath

A place uplifted towards the midnight sky

Far, far away among the mountains old,

A treeless waste of rocks and freezing cold,

Where the dead, cheerless moon rode neighbouring by--

And in the midst a silent tarn there lay,

A narrow pool, cold as the tide that flows

Where monstrous bergs beyond Varanger stray,

Rising from sunless depths that no man knows;

Thither as clustering fireflies have I seen

At fixed seasons all the stars come down

To wash in that cold wave their brightness clean

And win the special fire wherewith they crown

The wintry heavens in frost. Even as a flock

Of falling birds, down to the pool they came.

I saw them and I heard the icy shock

Of stars engulfed with hissing of faint flame--

Ages ago before the birth of men

Or earliest beast. Yet I was still the same

That now remember, knowing not where or when.

XXXVII. Tu Ne Quaesieris

For all the lore of Lodge and Myers

I cannot heal my torn desires,

Nor hope for all that man can speer

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