The Veil before the mystery of things <br />Shall stir for him with iris and with light; <br />Chaos shall have no terror in his sight <br />Nor earth a bond to chafe his urgent wings; <br />With sandals beaten from the crowns of kings <br />Shall he tread down the altars of their night, <br />And stand with Silence on her breathless height, <br />To hear what song the star of morning sings. <br /> <br />With perished beauty in his hands as clay, <br />Shall he restore futurity its dream. <br />Behold! his feet shall take a heavenly way <br />Of choric silver and of chanting fire, <br />Till in his hands unshapen planets gleam, <br />'Mid murmurs from the Lion and the Lyre.<br /><br />George Sterling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-coming-singer/
