Hesperian - Proem

The path that winds by wood and stream     Is not the path for me to-day;     The path I take is one of dream,     That leads me down a twilight way.     By towns, where myths have only been;     By streams, no mortal foot hath crossed;     To gardens of hesperian sheen,     By halcyon seas for ever lost.     By forests, moonlight haunts alone,     (Diana with her silvery fawn;)     By fields, whereon the stars are sown,     (The wildflowers gathered of the Dawn.)     To orchards of eternal fruit,     That never mortal hand shall take;     Around whose central tree and root     Is coiled the never-sleeping Snake.     The Dragon, lost in listening, curled     Around the trunk whose fruit is gold:     The ancient wisdom of the world     Guarding the glory never old.     The one desire, that leads me now     Beyond endeavour still to try     And reach those peaks that overbrow     The islands of the sunset sky.     The purple crags, the rosy peaks     Of somewhere, nowhere; where you will;     But the one place where Beauty speaks     With the Greek rapture on her still.     Where still she joins with old Romance     And Myth and Legend pearl-white hands,     And leads the old immortal dance     Of Song in dim immortal lands.