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?’