O interpret my soul to me! Give me no truth, no sight, no road Mother of things impossible Sister of what can never be Thou whose closed lips will never tell The words whose lack is misery Sit by my side while I ignore Smile by my ignorance of thee And my lost solitude restore Oh, life is sad as things unwilled Love is the day that never comes To those blind as my soul, and filled With that pressage of coming drums When the city shall fall, that haunts The inner vision whose night hums In us while death startingly chaunts O interpret my soul to me! Give me no truth, no sight, no road But take from me the misery Of consciousness and the unseen goal Of seeking ever what doth seem Lighten with being‑near my load! O let me hold thy hand and dream!