Dreamless Life

I have a work to do, which being done
I will go out from men, and sit apart,
And give myself up wholly to my heart.
The winds, the moon, the ocean, and the sun.
And all the rain-vexed streams in spring that run
To rest in the broad rivers; birds that start
The fields with sudden singing, as they dart
Through eve aglow with fire, or dawns begun, —

These shall my hidden thoughts interpret right.
So, when I walk far off from any strife,
Folded in quiet of sequestered life,
Through some pale autumn evening's lessening light,
My soul may catch her voice, discern her face.
And, yearning, lapse in rapture of embrace.