Flag of the heroes who left us their glory, Borne through their battle-fields' thunder and flame, Blazoned in song and illumined in story, Wave o'er us all who inherit their fame! ...
Space is ample, east and west, But two cannot go abreast, Cannot travel in it two: Yonder masterful cuckoo Crowds every egg out of the nest, Quick or dead, except its own;...
I dreamed that life and time and space were one, And the pure trance of dawn; The increase drawn From all the journeys of the travelling sun, And the long mysteries of sound and sight,...
Take me away into a storm of snow So white and soft, I feel no deathly chill, But listen to the murmuring overflow Of clouds that fall in many a frosty rill!
When, soul in soul reflected, We breathed an aethered air, When we neglected All things elsewhere, And left the friendly friendless To keep our love aglow, We deemed it endless . . ....
Oh, the wild black swans fly westward still, While the sun goes down in glory, And away o'er lonely plain and hill Still runs the same old story: The sheoaks sigh it all day long,...
Thou hast marked the lonely river, On whose waveless bosom lay Some deep mountain-shadow ever, Dark'ning e'en the ripples' play - Didst thou deem it had no murmur Of soft music, though unheard?...
Here, in this other world, they come and go With easy dream-like movements to and fro. They stare through lovely eyes, yet do not seek An answering gaze, or that a man should speak....
Whose is the voice that will not let me rest? I hear it speak. Where is the shore will gratify my quest, Show what I seek? Not yours, weak Muse, to mimic that far voice, With halting tongue;...
Was it a dream, Or a whim of the night? Or did they gleam Upon my sight An instant there in the wan moonlight? I saw them all, I think, Under the bowers, The faery folk, in a moonbeam wink,...
Nations ten thousand years before These States, and many times ten thousand years before These States; Garner'd clusters of ages, that men and women like us grew up and travel'd their course, and pass'd on;...
Gentle as the air that kisses The splendid and ignoble with one breath, Gentle as obliterating Death-- Though you be gentler yet, In days when the old, old things begin to fret...