A double-handled sword am I
Laid naked by the circling sky;
Fortune bath sharpened me in Space,
And whetted me upon Time’s face.

I am the world of fantasy;
The Genius of eternity
The world of nightingale and rose
Hath shattered, fashioning me for those.

The youthful wine to cheer the soul
That I am pouring in the bowl
Is from the vat, whereby my jar
And glass decanter molten are.

The breath is burning in my breast;
The sanctuary is my nest,
And men may recognize my throat
By the great ardour of my note.

Wrecked is the barque the ancient guide
Built out of sense, therein to ride;
Blest is the one who fashioned me
To be his vessel on the sea.