In the twilight of my audacity <br />I saw you flee the world, the burnt highways <br />Of summer gave up their light: I <br />Followed you with the uncommon span <br />Of fear-supported and disbursed eyes. <br /> <br />Towards the dark that harries the tracks <br />Of dawn I pursued you only. I fell <br />Companionless. The seething stacks <br />Of cornstalks, the rat-pillaged meadow <br />Censured the lunar interior of the night. <br /> <br />High in what hills, by what illuminations <br />Are you intelligible? Your fierce latinity <br />Beyond the nubian bulwark of the sea <br />Sustains the immaculate sight. <br /> <br />To the green tissue of the subterranean <br />Worm I have come back, two-handed from <br />The chase, and empty. I have pondered it <br />Carefully, and asked: Where is the light <br />When the pigeon moults his ease <br />Or exile utters the creed of memory?<br /><br />Allen Tate<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ignis-fatuus/
