For her whose ear can hear a Song
Her lips can never sing,
For poets with a Vision
There is no copying,

For hearts that labor lonely
Too near an earthly bliss,
That know her step, her glance, her smile,
But never know her kiss,

For Galahad who fought and fell
A sword-length short of Glory
That brave-heart millions, never sung,
Might have a hero story,

For Wisdom wrung from pain and loss,
For learning sorely bought,
For Creeds outworn, philosophies
That only end in doubt,

For rose-lipt maids and lightfoot lads
That slip betimes away,
For sons gone mad and cruelly wracked
Forever and a day.

Lost Song, lost Love, lost Vision,
Lost Glory, Life and Mind,
When loss on loss confounds us, Lord,
What is there left to find?

Though never caught, we glimpsed it,
And all our Hopes' forsakening
Is by one only thing redeemed,
Thy Great Awakening.