O leave the labouring roadways of the town, The shifting faces and the changeful hue Of markets, and broad echoing streets that drown The heart's own silent music. Though they too Sing in their proper rhythm, and still delight The friendly ear that loves warm human kind, Yet it is good to leave them all behind, Now when from lily dawn to purple night Summer is queen, Summer is queen in all the happy land. Far, far away among the valleys green Let us go forth and wander hand in hand Beyond those solemn hills that we have seen So often welcome home the falling sun Into their cloudy peaks when day was done— Beyond them till we find the ocean strand And hear the great waves run, With the waste song whose melodies I'd follow And weary not for many a summer day, Born of the vaulted breakers arching hollow Before they flash and scatter into spray, On, if we should be weary of their play Then I would lead you further into land Where, with their ragged walls, the stately rocks Shunt in smooth courts and paved with quiet sand To silence dedicate. The sea-god's flocks Have rested here, and mortal eyes have seen By great adventure at the dead of noon A lonely nereid drowsing half a-swoon Buried beneath her dark and dripping locks. |