Of sheltered vales of virgin peace.
And dewy meadows of delight,
And flashing streams, and shimmering seas.
And summits soaring out of sight ;

WhUe wraith-like over hill and dell

A sighing wind for ever goes.
Whose music in its lull and sweU

A note of witching sadness knows :

With steadfast will I turn my eyes
From aU your silver mystery :

1 list no more the breeze that sighs
Its sweet regret from tree to tree.
For there is poison in your breath,

And madness in your moaning breeze ;

And hidden swamps invite to death.
And pale shapes lurk amid the trees :



i8o Herbert Tucker

And many a noble heart and brave,
Lured by your beauty's S57ren snare,

Has found a vain, inglorious grave,
Stricken by your miasmic air.
The Kingdom of What-is is mine.
Though all too narrow seems its bound.
The honest day doth round me shine :
My feet are set on solid ground.
And so, disdainful of regret,

I yield my sword and give parole

Not to o'erpass the limits set
By conquering fate for my control.
My little round erect I tread.
Or bend my back in humble toil,

Striving to win my spirit's bread
From out the stern, unfruitful soil.
Yet gracious hours my Kingdom hath.
When Love's warm sunlight o'er it lies,

And Beauty's blossoms fringe my path.
And Joy sheds music from the skies.
And hush ! at moments rare and high
Some opal gleam of morning dew.
The glory of some sunset sky.
With secret gladness thrills me through.
