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THE GREAT HUNT
 -by 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 rack 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.