I saw Her footsteps just flit across the sky...
And the sun blazed up and still it burns incontinent
And so the stars to the end of the world -
But the little moon was consumed outright
and became the pale dead mass it is.

The golden trail of Her footseps has kindled
a quenchless Fire in my heart,
And all my life is now a volcano with its thousand
tongues of flame leaping up to kiss the trail -
But where are the little senses' little pleasures gone
And all the spell of the near and the clear and the small?
They have gone the way of the lunar light and its borrowed lamp
When the sun is high.

Lo, he is made to ride the comet that sweeps the expanding spaces,
The creature who once crawled in his murky pit....
A glance has melted,
A touch has moulded
A mortal into an Immortal!