Classic Poem

I dream the marriage of the visible
With the unseen the solving of all skeins;
I dream that in my verse I read the spell,
The last answer to the world's delights and pains,
The gleaming leaves of beeches, the shade thrown
By wavering ripples on the stream-worn stone,
The glowing green of the young wheat, the cries
Of birds, the lapsing sighs
Of spring's warm airs in lucent hedge and tree,
All these and with these too the discontent
Of life's frustration and the vanity
Of happiness too casually spent—
All these I contemplate
And would the seeming with the real fuse,
The lordly vesture with the spirit mate,
And publish in great verse the immortal news.
Still the dream fades; and closer home doth dwell,
Living with me, whether I sleep or wake,
What neither here nor there my hand can take;
Hidden in love lies the unriddled spell,
Nearest the heart and there least scrutable.