The spell of Shakespeare fills the heart With earthly music loud and low; But Marlowe drives the clouds apart, And through their thundering rifts we go.
O Merlin, how the magic from your eyes Bids the world flame about your idle feet, And makes a marvel of the humming street, The watchful bush, the starry-haunted skies!...
He looks beyond the veils of night and day; He hearkens in the silence, and has heard The ancient woods by dryad singing stirred, To mortal ears how thin and far away....
In what pearl-paven mossy cave By what green sea Art thou reclining, virgin of the wave, In realms more full of splendid mystery Than that strong northern flood whence came...
Once more the Christian festival is near, And I, for whom each day repeats all days Continuously in ecstasy of praise, Love's birthday lasting through the unending year,...
When my time is come to die, I would shun the decent gloom, Whispered word and weeping eye, Fitful hum of knowing fly Questing through the darkened room.