BALLADE OF THE BOURNE.
What goal remains for pilgrim feet
Now all our gods are banishèd?
Afar, where sea and sunrise meet,
Tall portals bathed in gold and red,
From either door a carven head
Smiles down on men full drowsilie
'Mid mystic forms of wings outspread
Between the Gates of Ivorie.
Now if beyond lie town or street
I know not nor hath any said,
Though tongues wag fast and winds are fleet;
Some say that there men meet the dead,
Or filmy phantoms in their stead,
And some "it leads to Arcadie,"
In sooth I know not, yet would tread
Between the Gates of Ivorie.
For surely there sounds music sweet
With fair delights and perfumes shed,
And all things broken made complete,
And found again things forfeited;
All this for him who scorning dread
Shall read the wreathen fantasie,
And pass, where no base soul had sped
Between the Gates of Ivorie.
Envoy.
Ah, Princess! grasp the golden thread,
Rise up and follow fearlesslie,
By high desire and longing led
Between the Gates of Ivorie.
Graham R. Tomson.