We were as ones on peaks in Darien,
And Love with a new glory
Opened in song and story,
Like a flower in a wan waste by the sea,
And we with our wide eyes looked forward from our star-touched promontory.
The hands that moulded dust out of the dust,
Scorching the sky with the iron that turns to rust,
Fashioning brazen Gods to feed their lust,
These with their feet of clay,
In the slow alchemy of a timeless day,