'Oh, whither, whither, rider toward the west?'
'And whither, whither, rider toward the east?'
'I rode we ride upon the same high quest,
Whereon who enters may not be released;

'To seek the Cup whose form none ever saw,-
A nobler form than e'er was shapen yet,
Though million million cups without a flaw,
Afire with gems, on princes' boards are set;

'To seek the Wine whereof none ever had
One draught, though many a generous wine flows free,-
The spiritual blood that shall make glad
The hearts of mighty men that are to be.'

'But shall one find it, brother? Where I ride,
Men mock and stare, who never had the dream,
Yet hope within my breast has never died.'
'Nor ever died in mine that trembling gleam.'

'Eastward, I deem: the sun and all good things
Are born to bless us of the Orient old.'
'Westward, I deem: an untried ocean sings
Against that coast, 'New shores await the bold.''

'God speed or thee or me, so coming men
But have the Cup!' 'God speed!'-Not once before
Their eyes had met, nor ever met again,
Yet were they loving comrades evermore.