Thus the Eye of Life
Searches for the home of Peace
Night after night:
And when the sun of Death rises
It flees,—it loves its own night.
27
TO
LEO B. MIHAN
Few notes out of the coffer of sound,
An image from the gallery of Nature,
An hour from the infinity of Time,—
Out of these, blessed creature,
Createst thou the world of endless rhyme!