YOUTH

He hears the hour's low hint and springs

To the chariot-side of Truth, while fast

The wild car swings

Through dust and cloud;

And the watchful elders, prophet-proud,

Give o'er his bones

To the wracking stones —

But he has passed!

A weft of sky, and castles stare

High from a wizard shore,

Sun-arrowed, tower-strong;

Gold parapets in air

Down-pour, down-pour

Sea-falls of peri song;

Then earth, the dragon's lair;

Cave eyes and burning breath;

And the lance the Grail lords bore

This day flies swift and fair,

This day of the dragon's death.

Must doff the wind-wreath, find thee lone?

Put on meek age's hood?

Feel but the frost within the dawn?

Wrap courage in a swaddling mood?

His bare throat flings

All-powered nay;

The world, his vast, unfingered lyre,

Stirs in her thousand strings;

Lit with redemptive flame

Burns miracle desire,

And dedicated day

Is long as freedom's dream.

Youth of the lance, youth of the lyre,

How far, how far shalt go?

Where will the halting be?

Sun-courier, whose roads of fire

Bridge God's delay,

The hearts that know thee, ah, they know,

Ageless in clay,

Sole immortality!