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 rack and the twist,
    And the rose is a red bygone,
    When the face I love is going
    And the fate 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.