What the heaping years fulfil,
Light and song, I owe;
Send my little book afield,
Fronting praise or blame
With the shining flag and shield
Of your name.
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The full, clear moon uprose and spread
A light-strewn path that seemed to leadOutward into eternity.Between the darkness and the gleamAn old-world spell encompassed me:Methought that in a godlike dreamI trod upon the sea.And lo! upon that glimmering road,In shining companies unfurled,The trains of many a primal god,The monsters of the elder world;Strange creatures that, with silver wings,Scarce touched the ocean’s thronging…
I1.
.Quaint uncouth dreamers, voices high and strange;.Flutists of lands where beauty hath no change,.And wintry grief is a forgotten guest,.Sweet murmurers of everlasting rest,.For whom glad days have ever yet to run,.And moments are as aeons, and the sun.But ever sunken half-way toward the west.1.Often to me who heard you in your day,.With close rapt…
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The old grey year is near his term in sooth,
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‘Tis well with words, oh masters, ye have sought,
Yet first take heed to what your own hands do;By deeds not words the souls of men are taught;Good lives alone are fruitful; they are caughtInto the fountain of all life (wherethroughMen’s souls that drink are broken or made new)Like drops of heavenly elixir, fraughtWith the clear essence of eternal youth.Even one little deed of…