Spirits in Bondage: A Cycle of Lyrics






XXVI. Song

     Faeries must be in the woods
     Or the satyrs' laughing broods—
     Tritons in the summer sea,
     Else how could the dead things be
     Half so lovely as they are?
     How could wealth of star on star
     Dusted o'er the frosty night
     Fill thy spirit with delight
     And lead thee from this care of thine
     Up among the dreams divine,
     Were it not that each and all
     Of them that walk the heavenly hall
     Is in truth a happy isle,
     Where eternal meadows smile,
     And golden globes of fruit are seen
     Twinkling through the orchards green;
     Were the Other People go
     On the bright sward to and fro?
     Atoms dead could never thus
     Stir the human heart of us
     Unless the beauty that we see
     The veil of endless beauty be,
     Filled full of spirits that have trod
     Far hence along the heavenly sod
     And see the bright footprints of God.

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