Fell, a blue feather from the wings of Heav’n.
Lo! it was Noon. And still I kept the Way.
At length one met me as my footsteps flagged,—
Within her eyes oblivion, on her lips
Delirious dreams—and I forgot the Way.
And still we wander—who knows whitherward,
Our sandals torn, in either face despair,
Passion burnt out—God! I have lost the Way!
Here is strong and vivid imagery, especially in the third stanza,
The winds, those hounds that only God can leash,