HE HEARS THE CRY OF THE SEDGE
 
 I WANDER by the edge
 Of this desolate lake
 Where wind cries in the sedge:
 iUntil the axle break
 That keeps the stars in their round,
 And hands hurl in the deep
 The banners of East and West,
 And the girdle of light is unhound,
 Your breast will not lie by the breast
 Of your beloved in sleep.