The Song-Font

By George Sterling

Oh! have thy feet trod Heaven, or hath thy flight
    In lands of faery found the Golden Age?
    Didst bend from Troy to watch the battle-rage
Uplift the swords of heroes, or by night
Hast waited on the starry Sapphic height
    To claim from Love thy beauty's heritage?
    For as I wrote, O Sweet! full on the page
Fell thy soul's shadow, on my mind its light.

Save for thy face my vision waiteth blind,
    As wait my lips thy tender, proud caress;
        Save for thy call I hasten to mischance,
O star who leadest unto beauty! Wind
Whose feet in woodlands sad with loveliness
    Have wandered, and in valleys of romance!

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