I HEAR again the music of old days;
O babbling waters, well I know the sound —
The same, though here no mossy headlands bound
Thy crystal confines, though no hazel sways
Its glistening gloom above the tranquil bays
And brawling runnels: here — on alien ground,
Th' unclouded glare above me, and around
Grim bastions sweltering in their dusty haze —
I hear what once I heard, across the seas,
Then, when I listened, setting for a while
Unworded thoughts to tuneless melodies,
Then, full of joy and music, turned away
With heart and eyes abrim; and saw the smile
That said so well what words can never say.