The hollow Earth,—smoulders and sighs,
And the laughter of stars and their wonder
Mingled and mixed in its eyes.
And we clomb—and the moon old and sterile
Clomb with us o'er torrent and scar!
And I yearned towards her oceans of beryl,
Wan mountains and cities of spar—
"'Tis not well," that one said, "you're in peril
Of falling and failing your star."
And we clomb—through a murmur of pinions,