Travel Song

‘COME, before the summer passes Let us seek the mountain land:’ So they called me, happy playmates, And we left the dawn-lit strand: Riding on till later sunbeams slanted On dark hills and downward-plunging streams, And the solemn forest softly chanted Old, old dreams. From the pass, we saw in glory Wave on purple wave unrolled To the cloud-encircled summit Floating high, alone and cold: Like that altar-stone, by men of Athens Dedicated to the unknown God; Waiting for some fire to touch his holy White abode. Then the mellow sunset dying Passed in rosy fire away, And the stars and planets journeyed On their ancient unknown way. Riders of the illimitable heaven! Moving on so far beyond our ken, Do ye scorn the toiling, heavy-hearted Sons of men? Ere we slept we heard the torrents Rushing from that mighty hill Join in deep melodious singing, While the forest-land was still. Music of forgotten wildernesses! Would that I could hear that song again! Song of primal Earth’s enchanted sweetness, Joy and pain.