John Drinkwater

AS pools beneath stone arches take

Darkly within their deeps again

Shapes of the flowing stone, and make

Stories anew of passing men,

So let the living thoughts that keep,

Morning and evening, in their kind,

Eternal change in height and deep,

Be mirrored in my happy mind.

Beat, world, upon this heart, be loud

Your marvel chanted in my blood.

Come forth, O sun, through cloud on cloud

To shine upon my stubborn mood.

Great hills that fold above the sea,

Ecstatic airs and sparkling skies,

Sing out your words to master me—

Make me immoderately wise.