Carol and Cadence New poems: MDCCCCII-MDCCCCVII: By John Payne |
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THE STREETS. |
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 | Carol and Cadence |  |
85
THE STREETS.
From street to street,
Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, cold and heat,
He fares, to whom
The Gods have given to make the flowers of fancy bloom
On the grey stones and from the smoke-stained walls.
Dreams cling about him like a moving cloud;
And in the aisles of Paradisal halls
He wanders, most alone amidst the crowd.
Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, cold and heat,
He fares, to whom
The Gods have given to make the flowers of fancy bloom
On the grey stones and from the smoke-stained walls.
Dreams cling about him like a moving cloud;
And in the aisles of Paradisal halls
He wanders, most alone amidst the crowd.
The folk that pass
He noteth but as darkly in a glass:
Their faces show
As phantoms but of folk forgotten long ago.
The things of thought for him alone are true;
The things of Life it is that do but seem:
The only Real lives in Heaven's blue
And in the winding woodways of his dream.
He noteth but as darkly in a glass:
Their faces show
As phantoms but of folk forgotten long ago.
The things of thought for him alone are true;
The things of Life it is that do but seem:
The only Real lives in Heaven's blue
And in the winding woodways of his dream.
The dreamland's gate
Stands open still to its initiate.
Where'er he goes,
The wastes before him flower with many a mystic rose:
Fields in each road, woods in each lane are born;
And he in London streets who cannot see
The elves at play and hear the elf king's horn
Hath no inheritance in Faërie.
Stands open still to its initiate.
Where'er he goes,
The wastes before him flower with many a mystic rose:
Fields in each road, woods in each lane are born;
And he in London streets who cannot see
The elves at play and hear the elf king's horn
Hath no inheritance in Faërie.
| Carol and Cadence | |