Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/351

On brow of earthly mould was set
Such splendor and such light as streams
From this rare phantom of my dreams!"

Lightly she turned, and led him through
Under the jasmines wet with dew,
Into a wide, cool room, shut in
From the great city's whirl and din—
Then, smiling, touched a heap of clay.
"Dear idler, do thy work, I pray!
Thy radiant phantom lieth hid
The mould of centuries amid,
Waiting till thou shalt bid it rise
And live beneath the wondering skies!"

Then rose a hot flush to his cheek;
His stammering lips were slow to speak.
"Hermione," he said at length,
As one who gathers up his strength,
"Hermione, my wife, I go
Far from thee on a journey slow
And long and perilous; for I know
Somewhere upon the earth there is
A finer, purer clay than this,
From which I'll mould a shape more fair
Than ever breathed in earthly air!
I go to seek it!"

I go to seek it!""Ah!" she said,
With smiling lips, but tearful eyes,
Half lifted in a grieved surprise,
"How shall I then be comforted?
Not always do we find afar
The good we seek, my Valdemar!
This common, wayside clay thy hand