"Only the frailer self. My grief
Shall answer your unspoken word
Through blithe interpreters, a bird
Waking, the sounds of rill and leaf.
"By many a caravanserai
I shall not fail to watch you come,
You of some far millennium,
Who, listening to the bird, will say:
"'I seem to know that tune of his;
He sings what all can understand.'