The Shadow of Immortality

By George Sterling

Within the eternal music hast thou stood?
    Oh! tell me thou art mortal—it must be,
    Belovéd, thou art mortal, since to me
Who cannot know thy mystery if I would,
Thou dost comprise all thoughts of human good!
    Yet, in the dream God gives my sou! of thee,
    Trembles a portent of Infinity,
And mystic glories touch thy womanhood.

Thine eyes seem part of Beauty's loneliness.
    Thy mouth her incommunicable flame,
        Thy voice the rapture of her star untrod
When chords ecstatic shudder with her stress—
    O thou the poignant music of whose name
        Is as a golden harpstring touched by God!

San Francisco.

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