Dante Gabriel Rossetti - The Soul's Sphere lyrics

Come prisoned moon in steep cloud-fastnesses,— Throned queen and thralled; some dying sun whose pyre Blazed with momentous memorable fire;— Who hath not yearned and fed his heart with these? Who, sleepless, hath not anguished to appease Tragical shadow's realm of sound and sight Conjectured in the lamentable night?… Lo! the soul's sphere of infinite images! What sense shall count them? Whether it forecast The rose-winged hours that flutter in the van Of Love's unquestioning unreveale'd span,— Visions of golden futures: or that last Wild pageant of the accumulated past That clangs and flashes for a drowning man.