Of all with whom I shared a common sky
none told this truth with more persuasive art
on those high themes whose burden makes us men
than one who spoke in dialogues from limbo.
Far voyager in the realm of disenchantment,
cartographer of countries of the mind,
late messenger from the golden age of Hellas,
ironic dreamer, skeptic saint, glad seer:
How may one thank in fitting terms the maker
of new and taller windows of the soul?
I turn my transient eyes without and see
the world’s great ghostly wheels of change reduce
our mortal homes to essences eternal —
the terror and the grandeur, all within.