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Poem	THROUGH the blue shadowy valley I hastened in a dream: Flower rich the night, flower soft the air, a blue flower the stream I hurried over before I came to the cabin door, Where the orange flame-glow danced within on the beaten floor. And the lovely mother who drooped by the sleeping child arose: And I see how with love her eyes are glad, her face how it glows. And I know all this was past ten thousand years away, But in the Ever-Living yesterday is here to-day, And the beauty made dust we cry out for with so much pain. Unknown lover, I lived over your joy again. Long dead maiden, your breasts were warm for the living head. It is we who have passed from ourselves, from beauty which is not dead. I know, when I come to my own immortal, I will find there In a myriad instant all that the wandering soul found fair: Empires that never crumbled, and thrones all glorious yet, And hearts ere they were broken, and eyes ere they were wet.
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