The Flight

O WILD heart, track the land’s perfume, Beach-roses and moor-heather! All fragrances of herb and bloom Fail, out at sea, together. O follow where aloft find room Lark-song and eagle-feather! All ecstasies of throat and plume Melt, high on yon blue weather. O leave on sky and ocean lost The flight creation dareth; Take wings of love, that mounts the most: Find fame, that furthest fareth! Thy flight, albeit amid her host Thee, too, night star-like beareth, Flying, thy breast on heaven’s coast, The infinite outweareth. II “Dead o’er us roll celestial fires; Mute stand Earth’s ancient beaches; Old thoughts, old instincts, old desires, The passing hour outreaches; The soul creative never tires— Evokes, adores, beseeches; And that heart most the god inspires Whom most its wildness teaches. “For I will course through falling years And stars and cities burning; And I will march through dying cheers Past empires unreturning; Ever the world flame reappears Where mankind power is earning, The nations’ hopes, the people’s tears, One with the wild heart yearning.