Green suns, and suns of garnet I have known—

Turning, with suns that mock the sapphire-gem,

The constellated moons that mirror them

To ever-changing opals. On the flown

Horizons I have followed, all alone,

To meadows of mirage the deserts hem,

And sought to break the ghostly, golden stem

Of roses of illusion, briefly blown

By evanescent waters. One by one,

The outward ways of wonder I have trod

Through alien lives ineffable. But none

Hath held the troublous marvel and surprise

That gleams and trembles in thy slightest nod,

Or sleeps between thy eyelids and thine eyes.