O face upturned to alien splendors!
Sybil, what visions have you seen
In haunted worlds? what music hearkened
In Edens hushed and vespertine?

The far is near, the near is distant
For you that dwell in dreams untold....
And yet. . . and yet. . . perchance not wholly
Their riddled meaning lies unrolled.

Perchance your mouth is strangely wistful
For hidden things you know not of:
Your eyes forget, your lips remember
Some lost and Atlantean love.