The Secret Splendour

Gautama

He sat aloof

Under the inhospitable roof

Of the nocturnal sky's indifference;

And lifted up

To its lost legendary spirithood

Worn hands of naked years—the chill stars stole

 Passion and pride from his face, leaving a bare

Inscrutable glow beneath the uncrowned hair....

Yet each heart-beat of his rough solitude

Was a drop of unknown sweetness gathered in a cup

Of perfect life for the intense Burning and barren desert-lips of the world-soul!

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