The bird and the bell, with other poems | ||
20
LVII.
Work on, O fainting hearts! Through storm and drouth,Somewhere your wingéd heart-seeds will be blown,
And plant a living grove;—from mouth to mouth,
O'er oceans, into speech and lands unknown,
Even till the long-foreseen result be grown
To ripeness, filled like fruit with other seed,
Which Time shall sow anew, and reap when men shall need.
The bird and the bell, with other poems | ||