DREAMER-OF-THE-AGE
'Twas in old Tehran City,
Hard by the old bazaar,
I heard a restless ditty
That pushed my door ajar;
A song nor great nor witty,
It spoke of my own mind.
I looked on Tehran City,
And knew I had been blind,
Or else the streets were altered
As by a peri's wand.
"Who are you, friends?" I faltered.
"The Pilgrims of Beyond,"
They said. I kissed the tatters
That wiser heads contemn.
I saw the Thing-that-matters,
And took the road with them.
I seek. Bestow no pity
On Failure's courtier. Say:
"'Twas well to find the city,
But that was yesterday."