There is a dancing in the morning beams,
There is a rainbow sown amid the dew,
There is a glint of gold shot through the sands,
A molten sapphire in the mountains' hue,
And Hope down comes with all her singing bands.
Nay, nay, it is not so; 'twas long ago!
There was a dancing in the morning beams:
Ah, how the years exile us into dreams!
There is a glamour in the moon's white gleams,
There is the touch that charmed Endymion's eyes,
A spirit mounting from the clod and stone,
A spirit bending from the bending skies-
And Love in midst of all sets up his throne!
Nay, nay, it is not so; 'twas long ago!
There was a glamour in the moon's white gleams:
Ah, how the years exile us into dreams!
There is a wonder-light on woodland streams,
A murmur in the green o'erhanging boughs,
A rustle in the fronded ranks of fern-
And, lo! the Muse with rapt enwreathèd brows,
And eyes that seen and unseen things discern!
Nay, nay, it is not so; 'twas long ago!
There was a wonder-light on woodland streams:
Ah, how the years exile us into dreams!
Some other world, perchance, our loss redeems-
Light to dead eyes and speech to lips all dumb
Brings back- brings us and ours from banishment!
So may our dreams a living joy become;
But here all things that are, without doubt are blent,
Within the mists that blow from long ago!
Some other world, not this, our loss redeems:
Ah, how the years exile us into dreams!
