Oh, the joy of the wind in our faces! We follow The cattle—we shout down the poppy-hung hollow. Lo! out of the cliff we have startled a swallow, And startled the echoes on rocky fells. Ho! what was it passed? Were they leaves—were they sparrows That whispered away like a hurtle of arrows? The rose-odor thickens—the deep gorge narrows; Now the herd takes down through the scented dells. Speed, speed, leave the brooks to their potter and prattle; Sweep on with the thunder and surge of the cattle, The hurry, the voices, the keen joy of battle— The hills and the wind and the open light. Now on into camp by the sycamores yonder; Now o’er the guitar let the light fingers wander; Let thoughts in the high heart grow pensive and fonder; Then stars and the dream of a summer night. Song of the Fay My life is a dream, a dream, In the moon’s cool beam; Some day I shall wake and desire A touch of the infinite fire. But now ‘tis enough that I be In the light on the sea; Enough that I climb with the cloud When the winds of the morning are loud; Enough that I fade with my star When the doors of the East unbar. My life is a long delight In the wonder of night. I quiet the heart of the rose When she quakes at the thought of the snows; I count the blown leaves of the Fall, And I comfort them all. Sometimes I awake with a start In the song of a poet’s heart. Some day I shall know life whole— Shall suffer and find me a soul. The World-Purpose Men sadly say that Love’s high dream is vain, That one force holds the heart—the hope of gain. Are, then, the August Powers behind the veil Weary of watch and powerless to prevail? Have they grown palsied with the creep of age, And do they burn no more with pallid rage? Are the shrines empty and the altars cold, Where once the saints and heroes knelt of old? Not so: the vast in-brothering of man— The glory of the universe—began When first the heart of the Mother Darkness heard The Whisper, and the ancient chaos stirred. Ever the feet of Christ were in events, Bridging the seas, shaking the continents. His feet are heard in the historic march Under the whirlwind, under the starry arch. Forever the Great Purpose presses on, From darkness unto darkness, dawn to dawn, Resolved to lay the rafter and the beam Of Justice—the imperishable Dream.