The Question

Will you sometime who have sought
So long and seek still
In the slowly darkening hunting ground
Catch sight of some ordinary month or week
Of that strange quarry
You scarcely thought you sought,

The gatherer gathered,
The finder found,
The buyer who would buy all in bounty bought,
And perch in pride on the princely hand at home,
And there the long hunt over,
Rest and roam.

— Edwin Muir

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