Page:The man against the sky; a book of poems.djvu/149

 Dark, marvelous, and inscrutable he moved on Till down the fiery distance he was gone,— Like one of those eternal, remote things That range across a man's imaginings When a sure music fills him and he knows What he may say thereafter to few men,— The touch of ages having wrought An echo and a glimpse of what he thought A phantom or a legend until then; For whether lighted over ways that save, Or lured from all repose, If he go on too far to find a grave, Mostly alone he goes.

Even he, who stood where I had found him, On high with fire all round him,— Who moved along the molten west,