Lost Things

    Oh, I could let the world go by, Its loud new wonders and its wars, But how will I give up the sky When winter dusk is set with stars？

    And I could let the cities go, Their changing customs and their creeds¹, —— But oh, the summer rains that blow In silver on the jewel weeds！Pain

    Waves are the sea's white daughters, And raindrops the children of rain, But why for my shimmering² body Have I a mother like Pain？

    Night is the mother of stars, And wind the mother of foam³ ——The world is brimming with beauty, But I must stay at home.