Whence are ye, vague desires
Whence are ye, vague desires,
Which carry men along
However proud and strong,
And, having ruled today,
Tomorrow pass away?
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
Which women, yielding to,
Find still so good and true;
So true, so good today,
Tomorrow gone away,
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
From seats of bliss above,
Where angels sing of love;
Or from the airs around
Or from the vulgar ground,
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
A message from the blest,
Or bodily unrest;
A call to heavenly good,
Or fever in the blood:
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which men who know you best
Are proof against the least,
And rushing to today,
Tomorrow cast away.
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which women, ever new,
Still warned, surrender to,
Adored with you today,
Then cast with you away:
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which unto boyhood's heart
The force of man impart,
And pass, and leave it cold
And prematurely old:
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which tremblingly confest
Pour in the young girl's breast
Joy, joy — the like is none —
And leave her then undone:
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Ah yet, though man be marred,
Ignoble crude and hard,
Though broken women lie
In anguish down to die,
Ah yet, ye vague desires,
Ah yet
By him who gave you birth,
And blended you with Earth,
For some good end designed
For man and womankind,
Ah yet, ye vague desires,
Ah yet
The petals of today,
Tomorrow fallen away
Shall something leave instead
To live when they are dead;
When you, ye vague desires,
When you
Have vanished, to survive,
Of you indeed derive
Its apparent earthly birth —
But of far other worth
Than you, ye vague desires,
Which carry men along
However proud and strong,
And, having ruled today,
Tomorrow pass away?
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
Which women, yielding to,
Find still so good and true;
So true, so good today,
Tomorrow gone away,
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
From seats of bliss above,
Where angels sing of love;
Or from the airs around
Or from the vulgar ground,
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
A message from the blest,
Or bodily unrest;
A call to heavenly good,
Or fever in the blood:
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which men who know you best
Are proof against the least,
And rushing to today,
Tomorrow cast away.
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which women, ever new,
Still warned, surrender to,
Adored with you today,
Then cast with you away:
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which unto boyhood's heart
The force of man impart,
And pass, and leave it cold
And prematurely old:
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which tremblingly confest
Pour in the young girl's breast
Joy, joy — the like is none —
And leave her then undone:
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Ah yet, though man be marred,
Ignoble crude and hard,
Though broken women lie
In anguish down to die,
Ah yet, ye vague desires,
Ah yet
By him who gave you birth,
And blended you with Earth,
For some good end designed
For man and womankind,
Ah yet, ye vague desires,
Ah yet
The petals of today,
Tomorrow fallen away
Shall something leave instead
To live when they are dead;
When you, ye vague desires,
When you
Have vanished, to survive,
Of you indeed derive
Its apparent earthly birth —
But of far other worth
Than you, ye vague desires,
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