← 472

Midday of life! My second youth's delight! My summer's park! Unrestful joy to long, to lurk, to hark! I peer for friends!—am ready day and night, For my new friends. Come! Come! The time is right! 14. This song is done,—the sweet sad cry of rue Sang out its end; A wizard wrought it, he the timely friend, The midday-friend,—no, do not ask me who; At midday 'twas, when one became as two. 15. We keep our Feast of Feasts, sure of our bourne, Our aims self-same: The Guest of Guests, friend Zarathustra, came! The world now laughs, the grisly veil was torn, And Light and Dark were one that wedding-morn.

474 →
Library
Hutch
New
Drafts
Trash