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O cold still lips that have drunk so deep
The cup that we all must drink,
Speak but once from your marvelous sleep,
Smiling on us who shudder and weep--
Is it so dread as we think?


O blessed souls who have found the truth
Of all that is said or seems,
Tell us, seekers in age and youth--
O, tell us, dying to grasp the truth,
Is it as sweet as the dreams?


Drop not a word of the strange new song,
Or the wonder of having died;
But once to us, who tremble and long,
Let a single Yes come sure and strong--
O, say you are satisfied.