Page:Poems, Savage, 1882.djvu/50

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44 LIFE

I feel the soft grass 'neath my feet, The tree-boughs sway o'erhead, The air is with June fragrance sweet, And all the storms are fled. I build grand castles in the air, And in their portals stand Sweet visions of good women rare, And men of every land. I talk familiar with the great, I worship with the good; Their true words still reverberate, And thrill to loftiest mood. And, going inward, deeper still, And climbing up as high, By hidden stairs I rise, until I gaze out on the sky. For there are windows of the soul; And, listening at these, I hear the mighty ages roll That make the eternities. And, up through mists of blinding light, A way no man hath trod, I dare to look, till on my sight There dawns the face of God.

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