Mystery

O veiled enchantress of my days and nights,
That in sweet wonder's realm of witchery
To fairer visions ever beckons me,
Thou'st left the valleys for the rugged heights!
A gladsome youth, the hill of thy delights
Winged my lithe spirit to speed after thee,
But now, come down, close-veilëd Mystery,
The garish sun but withers and affrights.

I feel thy charm, shy and elusive one,
As in the gleaming springtide of my life,
Whose zest was all thy unattained pursuit.
Still flit before me till the race is run,
And when with doubt the common day is rife,
Thy wonder-wand set thick with flower and fruit.