Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/494

SHADOW-LAND Past hoary Mimir's well and tree,

Across the unknown sea.

Suddenly, in his fair young hour,

Came one who bore a flower,

And laid it in his dimpled hand

With this command:

Thou must make a voyage far,

Sail beneath the evening star,

And a wondrous land discover."

—With his sweet smile innocent

Our little kinsman went.

Since that time no word

From the absent has been heard.

Who can tell

How he fares, or answer well

What the little one has found

Since he left us, outward bound?

Would that he might return!

Then should we learn

From the pricking of his chart

How the skyey roadways part.

Hush! does not the baby this way bring,

To lay beside this severed curl,

Some starry offering

Of chrysolite or pearl?

Ah, no! not so!

We may follow on his track,

But he comes not back.

And yet I dare aver

He is a brave discoverer

Of climes his elders do not know.

He has more learning than appears

On the scroll of twice three thousand years, 464