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 :::A FACE

F I could only pass Into that ultimate later time Where the solemn planets cease to climb, And one unruffled sea of glass Breaks on the sand with monotonous fall, Calls to the land with continuous call, Breaks and ebbs and flows and drifts, While its endless motion lifts The grey-cold tops of unearthly reeds And marge to desolate marge succeeds. With never the trunk of a single tree; If I could only see The face of the wind in that ultimate place, I think it would be less heavy with dreams, Less heavy with dreams of sea-weeds drifting. Less heavy with dreams of reed-tops lifting, Than the human face of one I know! If I could only go    Into that passionless later time Where long sea-memories rock like rhyme. And the sun and moon forever set. Tinge all with eternal violet. The face of the wind in that ultimate spot Where all is equal and nothing forgot, Would have the look of a face I know Or dreamed long ago that I know — Heavy with joy — heavy with woe!