Carl Sandburg: The Great Hunt

The Great Hunt

Carl Sandburg

I cannot tell you now;    When the wind's drive and whirl    Blow me along no longer,    And the wind's a whisper at last — Maybe I'll tell you then —                             some other time.
   When the rose's flash to the sunset    Reels to the wrack and the twist,    And the rose is a red bygone,    When the face I love is going    And the gate to the end shall clang,    And it's no use to beckon or say, "So long" — Maybe I'll tell you then —                             some other time.
I never knew any more beautiful than you:    I have hunted you under my thoughts,    I have broken down under the wind    And into the roses looking for you.     I shall never find any                            greater than you.