Explore "Called" by Olive Tilford Dargan on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I rise, I pass; / The feast is on, bright is the board, / Undrained the comrade glass; / Love's sheltering eyes are deep and nigh; / Fame waits with shining word; / But sweeter, goldening the sphere, / A voice falls from another sky; / The wasting world I do not hear, / And no god laughs as I pass by, / A wanderer.
Unpausing lowers / The gleam of her from other airs, / And Being's guarded doors / Are open wide for journey free / Where wait my chosen stars; / And o'er me, O what lustres break / Of that desire, Reality, / That burns a thousand suns to make / One nightingale to sing for me, / A soul awake!