NOT thine where marble-still and white

Old statues share the tempered light

And mock the uneven modern flight,

But in the stream

Of daily sorrow and delight

To seek a theme.

I too, O friend, have steeled my heart

Boldly to choose the better part,

To leave the beaten ways of art,

And wholly free

To dare, beyond the scanty chart,

The deeper sea.

All vain restrictions left behind,

Frail bark! I loose my anchored mind

And large, before the prosperous wind

Desert the strand —

A new Columbus sworn to find

The morning land.

Nor too ambitious, friend. To thee

I own my weakness. Not for me

To sing the enfranchised nations’ glee,

Or count the cost

Of warships foundered far at sea

And battles lost.

High on the far-seen, sunny hills,

Morning-content my bosom fills;

Well-pleased, I trace the wandering rills

And lear............