I pass you by in the public street,
O beautiful one, O wind of gladness!
You are a call to me, a promise of mystery,
Of delirium and aching madness.
I pass you by in the public street-
You are a challenge, O entrancer!
I am a boy, afraid, and I pass you by,
Though my heart is breaking to answer!
I pass you by-but the memory of you
Is as a breath from some strange world crying,
As a scent of oranges in the nostrils of the sick,
As music in the ears of the dying.
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