Classic Poem

I CAME through the still meadows
To where the dead have rest.
Across the Lake of Shadows
The ranges of the West
Gloomed to their utmost crest.

A sturdy-pinioned legion
Bore heavy through the night,
The mountain-guarded region
Throbbed with the burdened flight:
The long sea held the sight.

Voices, as from a distance,
Were swept along the strand
With pitiful persistence
Crying " we have no hand
To build the broken land. "

" We, warriors of the waters,
We, lords of towns and towers
We, chieftains' heirs and daughters,
We, peers of ancient powers, —
Earth is no longer ours.

" The days have faded from us
Fulfilling all their fee,
The sun gives no more promise,
The night no new decree;
The shore is as the sea.

" The mountains stand up grimly
Where the rough tempests beat,
The waters wait there dimly
Around their patient feet;
We have no tryst to meet. "

Oh, melancholy voices,
Your passion is not vain;
Unwisely he rejoices
Who struggles not to gain
All seasons that remain.

And by the Lake of Shadows,
Above its clouded face,
I came through the still meadows
And pondered on Love's grace
That leaves me yet a space.