Natural Magic.

I have put by the schoolmen, The seeming great and sage; Nor will I taste the vintage Brewed in the vats of Age; But I will sip the dewdrops On the lily's leaves unfurl'd, And list the wild birds warble The wisdom of the world. But this shall be my learning: Whate'er the pundit knows Has the dust of doubt upon it As to the grave it goes. The truths that I would gather Are different in kind, Touched with a natural magic No artifice can find. Ere time, a weird, wild creature, Had been ensnared and thrall'd By any human meaning, The gods in thunder call'd Among the heights and hollows, Like syllables that sent Into the moods of Nature Aerial wonderment. And this shall be my learning, And to this tune I'll grow As to a magic rarer Than all the schoolmen know; Within the ways that hint of The heathen joys that roam — The simple things that come to The heart, and find a home.