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46

THE VAIN SEARCH

SONNET

When from the timorous music of the day
We turn despondent, asking that some lyre
May wake a scintillation of the old fire
That seems for ever to have passed away;
When for some strong and passionate harp we pray,
Some soul of pure unconquerable desire
Whose heavenly might may seize and lift us higher,
A soul whose mandate peoples may obey;
When thus we yearn, as for some guiding star,
We who most sad and lost and lonely are,
We who recall the dead majestic years,
Who answers? One bard wanders 'mid his flowers,
Pointing towards strifeless fields and bloodless bowers:
Another roars camp Ballads in our ears.
1904.