William Sharp

I hear the little children of the wind Crying solitary in lonely places.

The gray silence, the gray waves, the gray wastes of the sea.

The desire of love, Joy: The desire of life, Peace: The desire of the soul, Heaven: The desire of God … a flame-white secret forever.

Down beyond the haven the tide comes with a shout.

Ah, the strange, sweet, lonely delight Of the Valleys of Dream.

Love is a beautiful dream.

Across the silent stream Where the dream-shadows go, From the dim blue Hill of Dream I have heard the west wind blow.

How beautiful they are, The lordly ones Who dwell in the hills, In the hollow hills.

Green wind from the green-gold branches, what is the song you bring? What are all songs for me, now, who no more care to sing? Deep in the heart of Summer, sweet is life to me still, But my heart is a lonely hunter that hunts on a lonely …