Men who go looking for the wilderness-stone, Eaters of life who run away from bread And are not satisfied with lucky days! Robbers of airy gold, skin-changing men Who find odd brothers when the moon is full, Stray alchemics who entertain an imp And feed it plums within a hollow tree Until its little belly is sufficed, Men who have seen the bronze male-partridge beat His drum of feathers not ten feet away, Men who have listened to wild geese at night Until your hearts were hollowed with that sound, Moth-light and owl-light and first-dayspring men, Seekers and seldom-finders of the woods, But always seekers till your eyes are shut; I have an elder daughter that I love And, having loved from childhood, would not tame Because I once was tamed. If you’re my friends, Then she’s your friend. I do not ask for her Refusal or compunction or the safe Road between little houses and old gates Where Death lies sleepy as a dog in the sun