Eyes that o'er the landscape fly

Eyes that o’er the landscape fly,
Over dale & wood & stream
To the cloud-realms of the sky;

Eyes that wander still & dream,
Hopes that ever forward press
Seeking lovelier loveliness;

All the world is yours to roam
—Searching eye & swiftling thought—
Nowhere can ye make your home;

Not where peace so vainly sought
Bower’d in the valley lies,
Nor content’s small villages;

Nor can pleasure’s garish dress
Tempt you to a mean caress
—Thoughts that will not rest nor stay—

Ever do ye tell her nay;
Still ye wander—‘Where, O say,
Lies our vision’d loveliness?’

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