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I said, ‘O heavenly Leader, O truth’s day,
Guide thou this wanderer’. He said, ‘In quest
Of his own pleasure did thy wand’rer stray’.
I pleaded, ‘Bide with me’. He answer’d, ‘Nay,
Unmeet were thy cold couch & cheerless rest
For me, soft-nurtur’d: vain is thy request.
The royal-born, how hardly may endure
After pomp’s luxury & silk array,
Thy mean provisioning, thy dwelling poor’.
Again I prayed, ‘O all life’s Sun, O true
Light-giver, to our darkling earth return’.
He said, ‘Pray not thus: since not ev’n my few
Dare to behold me, strange ’twere not, nor new,
That a poor wand’rer’s wilder’d heart should burn’.