"In Durance"

I am homesick after mine own kind

And ordinary people touch me not.
                                    And I am homesick
After mine own kind that know, and feel
And have some breath for beauty and the arts.

Aye, I am wistful for my kin of the spirit
And have none about me save in the shadows
When come they, surging of power, "DAEMON,"
"Quasi KALOUN." S. T. says Beauty is most that, a
         "calling to the soul."
Well then, so call they, the swirlers out of the mist of my soul,
They that come mewards, bearing old magic.

But for all that, I am homesick after mine own kind
And would meet kindred even as I am,
Flesh-shrouded bearing the secret.

        ~ Ezra Pound

[Note: "S. T." is Samuel Taylor Coleridge.]