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The Golden Treasury

of the best songs and lyrical poems in the English Language
Palgrave, Francis Turner (1824-1897)

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[FIRST SERIES]
  
[dedication]
  
[epigraph]
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Book First
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Book Second
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Book Third
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Book Fourth
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SECOND SERIES

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LXII
FAR—FAR—AWAY

(FOR MUSIC)

What sight so lured him thro' the fields he knew
As where earth's green stole into heaven's own hue,
Far—far—away?
What sound was dearest in his native dells?
The mellow lin-lan-lone of evening bells
Far—far—away.
What vague world-whisper, mystic pain or joy,
Thro' those three words would haunt him when a boy,
Far—far—away?
A whisper from his dawn of life? a breath
From some fair dawn beyond the doors of death
Far—far—away?
Far, far, how far? from o'er the gates of Birth,
The faint horizons, all the bounds of earth,
Far—far—away?
What charm in words, a charm no words could give?
O dying words, can Music make you live
Far—far—away?
A. Lord Tennyson
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