Half across the world from me
Lie the lands I'll never see
I, whose longing lives and dies
Where a ship has sailed away
I, that never close my eyes
But to look upon Cathay

Things I may not know nor tell
Wait, where older waters swell
Ways that flowered at Sappho's tread
Winds that sighed in Homer's strings
Vibrant with the singing dead
Golden with the dust of wings

Under deeper skies than mine
Quiet valleys dip and shine
Where their tender grasses heal
Ancient scars of trench and tomb
I shall never walk: nor kneel
Where the bones of poets bloom

If I seek a lovelier part
Where I travel goes my heart
Where I stray my thought must go
With me wanders my desire
Best to sit and watch the snow
Turn the lock, and poke the fire