LOVERS, are you faring forth? 
 Will you seek the icy north? 
Are you steering by the sun? 
Where you journey there is none 
But a frozen viking?s targe 
Resting idly on the marge. 
 
Lovers, do you make your way 
To a land of larger day? 
Do you track the homing flight 
Of the birds that seek the light? 
They will lead you to your death 
In the desert?s scorching breath. 
 
North or east or south or west, 
Lovers, you will lose your quest, 
For the prize of your demand 
Yields not to the hunter?s hand; 
He who searches love or truth 
Leaves them hid behind his youth.