There rolls the deep where grew the tree
O earth, what changes hast thou seen!
There, where the long street roars, hath been
The stillness of the central sea

The hills are shadows, and they flow
From form to form, and nothing stands;
They melt like mist, the solid lands
Like clouds they shape themselves and go

But in my spirit will I dwell
And dream my dream, and hold it true;
For though my lips may breathe adieu
I cannot think the thing farewell