Yet no shady vale can stay him,Nor can flowers,Round his knees all-softly twiningWith their loving eyes detain him;To the plain his course he taketh,Serpent-winding,
For a newborn creed,
At the gates of Eden boldly knock.
With the rhythm of the song!Yes, they come; their course they're bending
For all things useless I to thee have said,
As it onward hiesCrush'd by ocean's stern decree,
Lips returning kiss for kiss,Word for word, and eyes that meet;
Birds, and game, and fishes.Invitations all have had,