In tireless march I move from sphere to sphere.
I turn not back nor pause; my feet are drawn
By shining power. Master soul or pawn,
I know not which I am; I only hear
The faint insistent world voice murmuring on
Its pivot in another atmosphere;
All else is silence, the pervading year
Blows wanly through my senses and is gone.

O You who met me on the sunny lawn
Of yesteryear, to be my true companion,
And bade me lead you with me from the dawn
Into the shades of my predestined canon,
How is it that I find myself alone
Here in this desolate and starry zone?