The poem
DARK head by the fireside brooding, Where upon your ears Whirlwinds of the earth intruding Sound in wrath and tears:
Tender-hearted, in your lonely Sorrow I would fain Comfort you, and say that only Gods could feel such pain.
Only spirits know such longing For the far away; And the fiery fancies thronging Rise not out of clay.
Keep the secret sense celestial Of the starry birth; Though about you call the bestial Voices of the earth.
If a thousand ages since Hurled us from the throne: Then a thousand ages wins Back again our own.
Sad one, dry away your tears: Mount again anew: In the great ancestral spheres Waits the throne for you.