But I, my sweet song
Outliveth the sun!
Ye are many and strong;
I am stronger, and one!
Come forth! I invoke ye, O years, in my evening
orison.
THE YEARS
Crowned with Eternity, beyond beginning;
Sandalled with wings, Eternity’s; the end
Far beyond sight of striving soul or sinning;
Ourselves see not, nor know, nor comprehend.
Reeling from chaos, unto Chronos winning,
Devoured of Him our Father and our friend,
This is our life, lead winged or footed golden :
We pass, and each of other is unbeholden.
Ranged in dim spectral order and procession,
We span man’s thought, we limit him in time ;
None of the souls of earth have had possession
Of larger loves or passions more sublime.
Where the night-caverns hide our solemn session
The summoning word lifts up our holy rhyme.
Even as a mighty river, bend to bend,
We rise in turn and look toward the end.
Also, the Gods arisen from the living
Lights of the sky, half hidden in the night,
Vast shapes beholden of men unbelieving,
Staggering the sense and reason with the sight.
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