Some things that fly there be –
Birds – Hours – the Bumblebee –
Of these no Elegy.
Birds – Hours – the Bumblebee –
Of these no Elegy.
Some things that stay there be –
Grief – Hills – Eternity –
Nor this behooveth me.
There are that resting, rise.
Can I expound the skies?
How still the Riddle lies!
Within my reach!
I could have touched!
I might have chanced that way!
Soft saturated thro′ the village –
Sauntered as soft away!
So unsuspected Violets
Within the meadows go –
Too late for striving fingers
That passed, an hour ago!