Wanderer

Alone with my Dream in a dying world!— None will see nor hear. The Light I would bear witness to Shrines too bright for mortal eyes And blinds them with its radiance; The ethereal tones I listen for Are far beyond the range of mortal sense.

Oh, that I could pour the truth of my wild dream Into one human heart and set it afire With the beauty that enraptures me! Then would I cease to be an outcast And a wanderer, stalking like a spectre Through the world, haunted by the music Of an unuttered song—hiding my woe In the words in which I vainly seek to tell my Tale.

What shall I do to ease this burning fever Of earthly love that is consuming me? Must I wear my heart out crying Unheard in the wilderness— And slink away in silence and the dark? Will no one ever see The Truth that imprisons me Will no one ever come to speak the word That will set me free?

John Armistead Collier
SourceLicence:Public domain (US, unrenewed)

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