Classic Poem

Have we sailed and have we wandered,
Still beyond, the hills are blue.
Have we spent and have we squandered,
What's before us still is new.

See the foam of unheard waters
And the gleam of hidden skies,
Footsteps of Eve's whiter daughters
Flash between our dreaming eyes.

Soundless waning to the spirit,
Still — O still the hills are blue,
Ever and yet never near it,
There where our far childhood grew.