And you wait, are awaiting the one thing
that will infinitely increase your life;
the powerful, the uncommon,
the awakening of stones,
depths turned towards you.

Dimly there gleam in the bookcase
the volumes in gold and brown;
and you think of the lands journeyed through,
of pictures, of the apparel
of women lost again.

And you know all at once: That was it.
You arise, and before you stands
a bygone year's
anguish and form and prayer.