Classic Poem

I KNOW not where it was I saw them sit,
For in my dreams I had outwandered far
That endless wanderer men call the sea—
Whose winds like incantations wrap the world
And help the moon in her high mysteries.
I know not how it was that I was led
Unto their happy tryst, through fields of myrrh
In forests of red sandal by the sea;
For, when he mistily began to speak,
I could but gather these few fleeting words:

‘Your glance sends fragrance sweeter than the lily,
Your hands are visible bodiments of song.
You are the voice of April light at dawn,
Its silence that is music of glad birds.
The wind's heart have you, and its mystery,
When poet Spring comes piping over the hills
To make of Tartarus forgotten fear.
Yea, all the generations of the world,
Whose whence and whither but the gods shall know,
Are vassal to your vows for evermore.’

I know not where it was, nor how her answer
Fell warm as womanhood with wordless things,
For I had drifted on within my dream,
To that pale space which is oblivion.