PROEM

Beyond the pearly portal,

Beyond the last dim star,

Pale, perfect, and immortal,

The eternal visions are,

That never any rapture

Of sorrow or of mirth

Of any song shall capture

To dwell with men on earth.

Many a strange and tragic

Old sorrow still is mute

And melodies of magic

Still slumber in the flute,

Many a mighty vision

Has caught my yearning eye

And swept with calm derision

In robes of splendor by.

The rushing susurration

Of some eternal wing

Beats mighty variation

Through all the song I sing;

The vague, deep-mouthed commotion

From its ancestral home

Booms like the shout of ocean

Across the crumbling foam;

And these low lyric whispers

Make answer wistfully

As sea-shells... dreaming lispers

Beside the eternal sea.