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In the summoning voice of one long-known, well-loved, But nameless to the unremembering mind, It led to rapture back the truant heart. The immortal cry ravished the captive ear. Then, lowering its imperious mystery, It sank to a whisper circling round the soul. It seemed the yearning of a lonely flute That roamed along the shores of memory And filled the eyes with tears of longing joy. A cricket's rash and fiery single note, It marked with shrill melody night's moonless hush And beat upon a nerve of mystic sleep Its high insistent magical reveille. A jingling silver laugh of anklet bells Travelled the roads of a solitary heart; Its dance solaced an eternal loneliness: An old forgotten sweetness sobbing came. Or from a far harmonious distance heard The tinkling pace of a long caravan It seemed at times, or a vast forest's hymn, The solemn reminder of a temple gong, A bee-croon honey-drunk in summer isles Ardent with ecstasy in a slumbrous noon, Or the far anthem of a pilgrim sea. An incense floated in the quivering air, A mystic happiness trembled in the breast As if the invisible Beloved had come Assuming the sudden loveliness of a face And close glad hands could seize his fugitive feet And the world change with the beauty of a smile. Into a wonderful bodiless realm he came, The home of a passion without name or voice, A depth he felt answering to every height, A nook was found that could embrace all worlds, A point that was the conscious knot of Space, An hour eternal in the heart of Time. 
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