 | From the Hills of Dream |  |
144
Fuit Ilium.
I see the lift of the darkI see the lift of the dark, the lovely advance of the lunar twilight, the miracle of the yellow bloom—golden here and here white as frost-fire—upon sea and land. I see, and yet see not. I hear the muffled voice of ocean and soft recurrent whisperings of the foam-white runnels at my feet: I hear, and yet hear not. But one sound, one voice, I hear: one gleam, one vision, I see: O irrevocable, ineffable Desire!
| From the Hills of Dream | |