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.