Beyond the pearly portal,
Beyond the last dim star,
Pale, perfect, and immortal,
The eternal visions are,
That never any rapture
Of sorrow or of mirth
Of any song shall capture
To dwell with men on earth.
Many a strange and tragic
Old sorrow still is mute
And melodies of magic
Still slumber in the flute,
Many a mighty vision
Has caught my yearning eye
And swept with calm derision
In robes of splendor by.
The rushing susurration
Of some eternal wing
Beats mighty variation
Through all the song I sing;
The vague, deep-mouthed commotion
From its ancestral home
Booms like the shout of ocean
Across the crumbling foam;
And these low lyric whispers
Make answer wistfully
As sea-shells ... dreaming lispers
Beside the eternal sea.