Upon a Friend That Loved the 'Odyssey'
THOU art gone forth unto the silent lands;
With foamless prow the dark ship beareth thee
Beyond the utmost sea.
With foamless prow the dark ship beareth thee
Beyond the utmost sea.
Thy hands, that loved the touch of children’s hands,
That had the warrior’s strength, the limner’s skill,
Thy valiant hands are still.
That had the warrior’s strength, the limner’s skill,
Thy valiant hands are still.
Thy feet are still, that loved life’s rhythms so well,
That moved as though to music, as though stirred
By lilts none other heard.
That moved as though to music, as though stirred
By lilts none other heard.
Alas, the voice is still that loved to tell
Of thoughts whose artless grace transcended art;
Hushed is the stainless heart.
Of thoughts whose artless grace transcended art;
Hushed is the stainless heart.
Long tales retold by kindly flames were dear
To thee, as to Odysseus the King,
After much travailing.
To thee, as to Odysseus the King,
After much travailing.
But now is no returning. Who shall hear
Thy Odyssey, far-faring friend? For now
No Ithaca hast thou.
Thy Odyssey, far-faring friend? For now
No Ithaca hast thou.