Came he among the whispering wood, or in the golden meads,
Still he holds the cypress crown, which gold Apollo gave.
Walked he in stormy wind about or in the laze of noon,
Yet still he sings the song around, eternal end too soon.

He rose above the blue sky wild and stopped beneath the sun,
The eagle grew his pinions strong yet earth does not outrun.
Others voyaged the ether out or wandered into space,
The psychonauts, dead stars about, are lost unto our race.

False gods may fly like crimson sparks thrown out of Eden’s heat,
Though one took wing, in faithful gyre, halfway the sun to meet.
He melted not, nor smitten blind, but sorrowed in his mind,
His weakened corse you cannot find, in England, green and kind.

In water writ, in Rome bestowed, a man between two worlds,
Forever twixt the sun and sky, his ruddy heart unfurled.
For us, he loved and lost his mind, for us did name our vale,
For us the mansions traced in fate, and young, faced Death’s black gale.

I prayed his soul last Good to find, to early love yet keep,
The answer came the Moon around “long yet so shall I sleep”.
“Until the fickle Fortune bows and Fame is quite forgot,
Until my unconsummate Love unto the Phoenix, wrought.”

“Each upward shines in golden Love who holds what they were gift,
And dances in God’s hearth, a Dove of flame to sing, to sift.”
“The change will come upon a day, the change I won in pain,
To come again a second Self, like sunshine in the rain.”

“But still the special color min that welled from in my heart,
Remains forever changeless dyed, as in that vase of art.”
“Unbroken yet and still and bright I yet remain as them,
Alone for ages in the rest, and dreaming on the wind.”