The Wild Iris

By George Sterling

Afar the silent clouds go by,
And snows of cloud and stain of sky
Within my lowly bosom lie.

The heedless sky unchanging stands;
The clouds drift on to distant lands;
Man comes and takes me in his hands.

We pass. The lonely heavens abide.
From gulfs unknown that mock his pride
He turns to see me at his side.

What stirs him so he can not say:
I stand along his troubled way
No less a mystery than they.

Kin to the mortal flower that grows
To fade, he droops at last; he goes
To deeper peace than Nature knows.

'T is meet I share his rest, for he,
Alone of living things that be
Of earth, has given love to me.

A Wine of Wizardry and Other Poems by George Sterling, A.M Roberston, 1909.

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