Ho, thou, through the dim folio fondly mining,
We near the end.
A moment in thy sleeping and thy dining
Arrest thee, friend!
Only a little way art thou behind me,
But in my place
The world has grown so thin that now I find me
Close upon space.
Is it some larger leaf than we have burrowed,
In tinct and pale
And blazon of the title-page we furrowed
With sinuous trail ?
Is it the answer to some wild of dreaming
Before me there ?
Some airy lift, some hint of boundless gleaming,
Which way I fare ?
Life! And, beyond, outlook of glorious weather,—
Wide wanderings!
Ho, friend, bestir thee in thy fragrant leather!
I feel my wings!