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.