Blue hills beneath the haze That broods o’er distant ways, Whether ye may not hold Secrets more dear than gold,— This is the ever new Puzzle within your blue. Is ’t not a softer sun Whose smiles yon hills have won? Is ’t not a sweeter air That folds the fields so fair? Is ’t not a finer rest That I so fain would test? The far thing beckons most, The near becomes the lost. Not what we have is worth, But that which has no birth Or breath within the ken Of transitory men.
Heaven is open every day; In night also He that would wend his upward way May surely go. There is no wall to that demesne Where God resides; nor any screen To hide the glories of that scene,— If man will know. The ladder which the Hebrew saw Whenas he slept, From earth...
the eagle, did ye see him fall?— Aflight beyond mid-air Erewhile his mighty pinions bore him, His eyry left, the sun before him; And not a bird could dare To match with that tremendous motion, Through fire and flood, ’twixt sky and ocean,— But did ye see the eagle fall? And so ye...
Blue hills beneath the haze That broods o’er distant ways, Whether ye may not hold Secrets more dear than gold,— This is the ever new Puzzle within your blue. Is ’t not a softer sun Whose smiles yon hills have won? Is ’t not a sweeter air That folds the fields so fair? Is ’t not a finer rest...
