Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/50

40 To do Thy will unknown!" he pressed his heart,

And, patient, climbed against the barren skies,

And, fain to see, saw not; "nay, not the sight,"

He sighed, "the very truth, man's miracle,—

Not in the heaven of heavens, eternal built,

The city shining down the fadeless stars,

Where no night is, nor ever falls a tear,

Hope cannot die, and memory is not pain,

And there no partings are, but love is all."

The summit of the pass could not be far.

With bold, strong curves the ice-ribbed floor pierced on;

Loud fell his footstep; sudden opposite

The mountain broke, one headlong precipice,

Upon the western stars; and, crest on crest,

The pale ledge, like a billow of the night

On shores unknown, bore him upon his fate;

Almost he hoped—was there indeed an end?

Low in the sunken West the red moon flared;

A savage land rolled on the vacant air;

The sloping, vast, dead wilderness—'twas all.

There ran the swift descent straight to the waste.

O, evil was his case! down, down he went;

Little he thought save that his grave lay there.

Now had he borne his body to the death—