In the realm that Nature boundeth
Are there balmy shores of peace,
Where no passion-torrent soundeth,
And no storm-wind seeks release?
Rest they ‘mid the waters golden,
Of some strange untravelled sea,
Where low, halcyon airs have stolen,
Lingering round them slumbrously?
Shores begirt with purple hazes,
Mellowed by gray twilight’s beams,
Whose weird curtains shroud the mazes,
Wandering through a realm of dreams;
Shores, where Silence wooes Devotion,
Action faints, and echo dies,
And each peace-entranced emotion
Feeds on quiet mysteries.
If there be, O guardian Master,
Genius of my life and fate,
Bear me from the world’s disaster,
Through that kingdom’s shadowy gate;
Let me lie beneath its willows,
On the fragrant, flowering strand,
Lulled to rest by breezeless billows,
Thrilled with airs of Elfin-land.
Slumber, flushed with faintest dreamings;
Deep that knows no answering deep,
Unprofaned by phantom-seemings,
–Mockeries of Prot
(Paul Hamilton Hayne)
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Based on Topics: World Poems, War & Peace Poems, Dreams Poems, Fate & Destiny Poems, Mystery Poems, Actions Poems, Genius PoemsBased on Keywords: soundeth, hazes, untravelled, breezeless, unprofaned, boundeth, prot, elfin-land