I turned me from that place in humble wise, And fingers soft were laid upon mine eyes, And I beheld the fruitful earth, with store Of odorous treasure, full and golden grain, Ripe orchard bounty, slender stalks that bore Their flowered beauty with a meek content, The prosperous leaves that loved the sun and rain, Shy creatures unreproved that came and went In garrulous joy among the fostering green. And, over all, the changes of the day And ordered year their mutable glory laid-- Expectant winter soberly arrayed, The prudent diligent spring whose eyes have seen The beauty of the roses uncreate, Imperial June, magnificent, elate Beholding all the ripening loves that stray Among her blossoms, and the golden time Of the full ear and bounty of the boughs,-- And the great hills and solemn chanting seas And prodigal meadows, answering to the chime Of God's good year, and bearing on their brows The glory of processional mysteries From dawn to dawn, the woven shadow and shine Of the high moon, the twilight secrecies, And the inscrutable wonder of the stars Flung out along the reaches of the night. 'And, the ancient might Of the binding bars Waned, as I woke to a new desire For the choric song Of exultant, strong Earth-passionate men with souls of fire'. VI 'Twas given me to hear. As I beheld-- With a new wisdom, tranquil, asking not For mystic revelation--this glory long forgot, This re-discovered triumph of the earth In high creative will and beauty's pride Established beyond the assaulting years, It came to me, a music that compelled Surrender of all tributary fears, Full-throated, fierce and rhythmic with the wide Beat of the pilgrim winds and labouring seas, Sent up from all the harbouring ways of earth Wherein the travelling feet of men have trod, Mounting the firmamental silences And challenging the golden gates of God. 'We bear the burden of the years Clean-limbed, clear-hearted, open-browed; Albeit sacramental tears Have dimmed our eyes, we know the proud Content of men who sweep unbowed Before the legionary fears; In sorrow we have grown to be The masters of adversity. Long ere from immanent silence leapt Obedient hands and fashioning will, The giant god within us slept, And dreamt of seasons to fulfil The shaping of our souls that still Expectant earthward vigil kept; Our wisdom grew from secrets drawn From that far-off dim-memoried dawn. Wise of the storied ages we, Of perils dared and crosses borne, Of heroes bound by no decree Of laws defiled or faiths outworn, Of poets who have held in scorn All mean and tyrannous things that be; We prophesy with lips that sped The songs of the prophetic dead.