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Poem by Paul Hamilton Hayne
THIS is my world! within these narrow walls, I own a princely service. The hot care And tumult of our frenzied life are here But as a ghost and echo; what befalls In the far mart to me is less than naught; I walk the fields of quiet Arcades, And wander by the brink of hoary seas, Calmed to the tendance of untroubled thought; Or if a livelier humor should enhance The slow-time pulse, 't is not for present strife, The sordid zeal with which our age is rife, Its mammon conflicts crowned by fraud or chance, But gleamings of the lost, heroic life, Flashed through the gorgeous vistas of romance.
Paul Hamilton Hayne
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