Just out of reach she lightly swings,
My Psyche with the rainbowed wings,
A floating flower, by winds impelled,
The honeyed spray has caught and held.
Now circling low, with grace divine,
She sips the tulip's chaliced wine.
Why should I seek to bring her nigh
And find--a simple butterfly?
O isles in ocean's azure set,
Like sculptured dome and minaret
Your purpled cliffs and headlands rise
Against the far-off, misty skies.
Yet, thither borne by helpful breeze,
As lifts the veil from circling seas,
Well know I your enchanted land
Would prove but rugged rock and sand.
O friend whose words of wisdom rare
Inspire my soul to do and dare,
Across the distance wide and drear
I will not reach to bring you near.
Why cast ideal grace away
To find you only common clay?
The best of life and thought and speech
Is that which lies--just out of reach.