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Walter de la Mare - The Tryst
Work rating: Low

Flee into some forgotten night and be
Of all dark long my moon-bright company:
Beyond the rumour even of Paradise come,
There, out of all remembrance, make our home:
Seek we some close hid shadow for our lair,
Hollowed by Noah`s mouse beneath the chair
Wherein the Omnipotent, in slumber bound,
Nods till the piteous Trump of Judgment sound.
Perchance Leviathan of the deep sea
Would lease a lost mermaiden`s grot to me,
There of your beauty we would joyance make —
 
A music wistful for the sea-nymph`s sake:
Haply Elijah, o`er his spokes of fire,
Cresting steep Leo, or the heavenly Lyre,
Spied, tranced in azure of inanest space,
Some eyrie hostel, meet for human grace,
Where two might happy be — just you and I — 

Lost in the uttermost of Eternity.
Think! in Time`s smallest clock`s minutest beat
Might there not rest be found for wandering feet?
Or, `twixt the sleep and wake of Helen`s dream,
Silence wherein to sing love`s requiem?

No, no. Nor earth, nor air, nor fire, nor deep
Could lull poor mortal longingness asleep.
Somewhere there nothing is; and there lost Man
Shall win what changeless vague of peace he can.
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