In many a shape and fleeting apparition, Sublime in age or with clear morning eyes, Ever I seek thee, tantalising Vision, Which beckoning flies. Ever I seek Thee, O evasive Presence, Which on the far horizon's utmost verge, Like some wild star in luminous evanescence, Shoots o'er the surge. Ever I seek Thy features ever flying, Which ne'er beheld I never can forget: Lightning which flames through love, and mimics dying In souls that set. Ever I seek Thee through all clouds of error; As when the moon behind earth's shadow slips, She wears a momentary mask of terror In brief eclipse. Ever I seek Thee, passionately yearning; Like altar-fire on some forgotten fane, My life flames up irrevocably burning, And burnt in vain.