Let others prate of Greece and Rome, And towns where they may never be, The muse should wander nearer home. My country is enough for me; Her wooded hills that watch the sea,...
When the impatient spirit leaves behind The clogging hours and makes no dear delay To drop this Nessus-shirt of night and day, To cast the flesh that bound and could not bind...
O city, look the Eastward way! Beyond thy roofs of shadowy red and grey Floats like a lily on the airy stream, Radiant and vast, a cloud, Around whose billowy head...
The Soul, of late a lovely sleeping child, Spreads sudden wings and stands in radiant guise, Eyed like the morn and bent upon the skies; Her the blue gulf dismays not, nor the wild...
Miles and miles of quiet houses, every house a harbour, Each for some unquiet soul a haven and a home, Pleasant fires for winter nights, for sun the trellised arbour,...
My folk's the wind-folk, it's there I belong, I tread the earth below them, and the earth does me wrong, Before my spirit knew itself, before this frame unfurled,...