ENVOI

Let those whose Hearts and Hands are strong Tell eager Tales of mighty Deeds; Enough if my sequestered Song To hush'd and twilight Gardens leads! Clear Waters, drawn from secret Wells, Perchance may fevered Lips assuage; The Tales an elder Pilgrim tells To such as go on Pilgrimage. I wander by the Waterside, In that cool Hour my Soul loves best, When trembles o'er the rippling Tide A golden Stairway to the West. Such the soft Path my Words would trace, Thus with the moving Waters move; So weave, across the Ocean's Face, A glimmering Stair to Hope and Love.