Travel Song

‘COME, before the summer passes  
 Let us seek the mountain land:’  
So they called me, happy playmates,  
 And we left the dawn-lit strand:  
Riding on till later sunbeams slanted  
 On dark hills and downward-plunging streams,  
And the solemn forest softly chanted  
 Old, old dreams.  
 
From the pass, we saw in glory  
 Wave on purple wave unrolled  
To the cloud-encircled summit  
 Floating high, alone and cold:  
Like that altar-stone, by men of Athens  
 Dedicated to the unknown God;  
Waiting for some fire to touch his holy  
 White abode.  
 
Then the mellow sunset dying  
 Passed in rosy fire away,  
And the stars and planets journeyed  
 On their ancient unknown way.  
Riders of the illimitable heaven!  
 Moving on so far beyond our ken,  
Do ye scorn the toiling, heavy-hearted  
 Sons of men?  
 
Ere we slept we heard the torrents  
 Rushing from that mighty hill  
Join in deep melodious singing,  
 While the forest-land was still.  
Music of forgotten wildernesses!  
 Would that I could hear that song again!  
Song of primal Earth’s enchanted sweetness,  
 Joy and pain.