Classic Poem

Clearest pool, my wondering joy
When a fancy-haunted boy,
From the troubled world of men
I've come back to thee again.

Loosed by my imperious star
I've come back from very far,
Dusty from the clash of years,
Worn with life and love and tears.

When I came to thee of old
Treasures rare my hands would hold, —
Wondrous blooms, or glass of dye
To transfigure earth and sky.

Now the best that I can bring
Seems a very little thing.
Let me cast it all away
To win back one boyhood's day.

O'er thy globe of crystal space,
Clearest pool, I lean my face.
What's the happy mask I see
Wisely smiling back on me?

Surely those glad eyes were mine
When the earth looked all divine! —
Knowing less, remembering more,
How enchanted was their lore!

Surely mine, this weary while
Agone, was that unshadowed smile!
Clearest pool, thou showest me
All my boyhood used to be.

Keep thy waters, clearest pool,
Always tranquil, pure and cool.
I, alas, must turn again
To the troubled world of men!