I stood like some worn image carved of stone
Amid the thoughtful sands of eventide;
When rolling back the grey, there opened wide
The unsuspected gates of the Unknown.
Long hours I stood, amazed and deified,
Beside that singing shore; that shining zone,
Myself like God, triumphantly alone,
"And is this then the shore of death?" I cried.

A wind blew down from the tremendous sky,
Fraught with a whisper fainter than a breath,
Fanning my spirit with exalted wonder;
But the great doors swung to with rumbling thunder;
One more the winged faith had passed me by,
Like unto melody, like unto death.