Page:The college beautiful, and other poems.djvu/24

12 Of life, to run in God's appointed ways, The songs of weariness all hushed in sweeter psalms of praise.

SOUL of music and wind, So pure from the gates of birth, That how could we hope to bind The rare and beautiful mind To a perishing form of earth? She quivered within its hold, Yet we loved her, ah, so well, That we thought our love might fold Her spirit against the cold Of this land wherein we dwell. But still through our tenderest word, Through the sea's mysterious tone, Through the song of our sweetest bird, She listened and ever heard An echo beyond our own. The shadow troubled her sore That holdeth our mortal eyes ; We weep, for forevermore The vision of that dim shore In beauty before her lies.