“Beauty that shakes in lights, Beauty that gleams in mists, Loveliness of still nights, Gold of the stars that twists, Ribbon-like, into the sea … Beauty is calling me.
Delicate crimson flames, Jewels with long histories, Mysterious oft-said names, Blossoms beneath great trees, Melodies deep and low, Call me. I can not go.
Heliotrope, jasmine, rose; Lovers, at crumbling gates; Silence, when eyelids close; Cliffs, where the sea-bird mates: Beauty holds these for me Whose eyes are too blind to see.
Beauty, when sunbeams blur, Calls me again and again. I can not answer her. Beauty shall call me in vain, Sadly, from year to year … Passion has chained me here. ”