WHAT SIGHT so lured him thro’ the fields he knew
As where earth’s green stole into heaven’s own hue,
What sound was dearest in his native dells?
What vague world-whisper, mystic pain or joy,
A whisper from his dawn of life? a breath
Far, far, how far? from o’er the gates of Birth,
What charm in words, a charm no words could give?