There was a time when in the teeth of fate I flung the challenge of the spirit's right; The child, the dreamer of that visioned night, Woke, and was humbled unto man's estate. A slave I am; on sun and moon I wait, Who heed not that I live upon their light. Me they despise, but are themselves so bright They flood my heart with love, and quench my hate. O subtle Beauty, sweet persuasive worth That didst the love of being first inspire, We do thee homage both in d**h and birth. Thirsting for thee, we die in thy great dearth, Or borrow breath of infinite desire To chase thine image through the haunted earth.