Harbinger the Traveler

From the windy land the traveler took flight, his heart in his pocket and on in the night, he set forth --- to the north, the cooling spring; Yet his heart did not sing, nor his steps drink to the tune of friends of old, but he welcomed the evening and braved the cold To the stars he gazed above, delighted to see his love in times afar; On the wind she was ---- and in every nestle, seasoned joy, she lay everywhere he could not deny; in the moment ---- the bite of his wine, all things pretty and divine, she was Down on the skyline the haze of yesterday yawned away, to pink the day in purple tomorrow; the world waited like a nightingale, the seasons passed, warm, hot, snow; And it had been some time ago since the sleeping city; the pulsing harlot ---- he took pity with such amity To the ends of the world he had gone, every corner and beyond and found his love in a song, in a patch of lilacs the road along; And never looked back, loosed his pack, and keeping to the footpaths ---- bridled like a groom: became perfectly glad