Meditation

I have drawn my hands away

Toward peace and the grey margins of the day.

The andante of vain hopes and lost regret

Falls like slow rain that whispers to forget,--

Like a song that neither questions nor replies

It laves with coolness tarnished lips and eyes.

I have drawn my hands away

At last to touch the ungathered rose. O stay,

Moment of dissolving happiness! Astir

Already in the sky, night's chorister

Has brushed a petal from the jasmine moon,

And the heron has passed by, alas, how soon!

I have drawn my hands away

Like ships for guidance in the lift and spray

Of stars that urge them toward an unknown goal,

Drift, O wakeful one, O restless soul,

Until the glittering white open hand

Of heaven thou shalt read and understand.