Classic Poem

I HEAR the ocean's deep vibrating tone
From emerald caverns where sea-fairies dream;
Or from the sands of southern islands lone,
Where azure veined shells and corals gleam: —
Entranced I hear, and ere I am aware,
The green waves sparkle round me everywhere.

I hear a shrill tumultuous glad cry,
The clang of brass and tread of armed feet,
And round me lances bristle, pennons fly,
And shouting crowds surge through the quaint old street.
Who comes? What day is this? What festive town?
What victory stirs my heart with dead renown?

The clangor melts to sweetness, and I hear
The sighing sounds of a soft summer night;
I feel the heart of many a vanished year
Throbbing in mine with anguish and delight;
I live with Beauty death has made divine,
And lips of storied love are pressed to mine.

I hear the stir of wind among the trees,
The song of birds, the brook's low, reedy croon.
The pipe of grasshoppers, the hum of bees,
Making a murmur in the hot bright noon; —
I hear and half forget this joyous day
Crowned some fair summer, long since passed away.