Mandragora/Wayfarers

by John Cowper Powys

For works with similar titles, see Wayfarers.

THE wind is very cold!
Does it blow from the ultimate sea,
      Or over cities sad and old,
      Lost beyond memory?" '
So cried my heart to my soul,
      As it shivered by its side;
But "Follow the wind — follow the wind!"
      My soul replied.

And the wind led them on and on.
     Till they came to the city of Dis;
"Here shall we rest!" my poor heart cried,
     "Here shall we find our bliss;
Behold, this is great Babylon!
     The Heart's Desire is this!"
And it blessed itself and blessed my soul
     With a wicked heathen kiss.
So cried my heart to my soul.
     As it shivered by its side.
But "Follow the wind — follow the wind!"
     My soul replied.

And the wind led them on and on.
     Till they came to the city of God.
"Here shall we rest!" my poor heart cried.
     And tears of blood it poured.
"On these streets shine the sun and the moon:
     The City of God is this!"

And it blessed itself and blessed my soul
   With a most holy kiss.
So cried my heart to my soul,
   As it shivered by its side.
But "Follow the wind — follow the wind!"
   My soul replied.

And the wind led them on and on
   Till they came to the City of Dreams,
To the place where the king called "Might-have-been"
   Dwelleth with "Never-to-be," his queen,
   And all is as it seems.
"Here shall we rest!" my poor heart cried,
   "The City of Dreams is this."
And it blessed itself and blessed my soul
   With a wistful and weeping kiss.
So cried my heart to my soul.
   As it shivered by its side.
But "Follow the wind — follow the wind!"
   My soul replied.

And still they follow and follow.
   Beyond each ultimate shore;
And Aldebaran shines behind them
   And Arcturus shines before.
And when my poor heart murmurs,
   "When we left those gates we sinned!"
My soul thro' the darkness answers her —
   "Follow the wind!"