To the Saintly ArtistGibran, life's stranger, wished a peer beside,
To soothe his pain and banish grief's dark tide;Time brought him love as though a faithful friend,
Prolonged his youth and made his flame ascend;I testify the flame itself is fair,
Beloved to a heart that sought love's share;They said: strange is an elder's passion's fire —
I said: intense — yet nothing to admire;A lifetime's trials in struggle spent,
He won his triumph and his wars' intent;I came to love thee at the hour of noon,
Burning with longing, pleading to the moon;We see in him all things made beautiful,
His years, his fragrance, sweetness bountiful;I see him wander lost o'er every land
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