In the lodge of the Mother of Men,
In the land of Desire,
Are the embers of fire,
Are the ashes of those who return.
Who return to the world;
Who flame at the breath
Of the Mockers of Death.
O Sweet, we will voyage again
To the camp of Love’s fire,
Nevermore to return!
O love, by the light of thine eyes
We will fare over-sea;
We will be
As the silver-winged herons that rest
By the shallows,
The shallows of sapphire stone;
No more shall we wander alone.
As the foam to the shore
Is my spirit to thine,
And God’s serfs as they fly,--
The Mockers of Death--
They will breathe on the embers of fire
We shall live by that breath.
Sweet, thy heart to my heart,
As we journey afar,
No more, nevermore, to return!