Page:Astrophel and other poems (IA astrophelotherpo00swiniala).pdf/29

 And the moon, triumphant when twilight is overpast, Takes pride but awhile in the hours of her stately sway. But the might of the noon, though the light of it pass away, Leaves earth fulfilled of desires and of dreams that last; But if any there be that hath sense of them none can say.

For if any there be that hath sight of them, sense, or trust Made strong by the might of a vision, the strength of a dream, His lips shall straiten and close as a dead man's must, His heart shall be sealed as the voice of a frost-bound stream. For the deep mid mystery of light and of heat that seem To clasp and pierce dark earth, and enkindle dust, Shall a man's faith say what it is? or a man's guess deem?