Poems (Van Rensselaer)/Our Kingdom
OUR KINGDOM
Sweet are the songs that yesterday hath sung;
Sweet are the songs of a far-off to-morrow,
The unknown words, the chiming chords unrung,
That beauty from our faith in beauty borrow.
But sweeter, sweetest, in my heart-strings play
The fragmentary cadences that flow
To syllables and harmonies to-day,
Half caught, half fugitive, and loveliest so.
Sweet are the songs of a far-off to-morrow,
The unknown words, the chiming chords unrung,
That beauty from our faith in beauty borrow.
But sweeter, sweetest, in my heart-strings play
The fragmentary cadences that flow
To syllables and harmonies to-day,
Half caught, half fugitive, and loveliest so.
Who needeth songs of yesterday and far
To-morrows? Not or thou or I! Dimmed love
May sing them, and love yet unborn. The star
That slowly faded at daybreak above
Our eastern sea, the star that gathers light,
Even as we watch, beyond the hilly west,
The one that in the zenith at midnight
Shall the long lingering of our joy attest—
To-morrows? Not or thou or I! Dimmed love
May sing them, and love yet unborn. The star
That slowly faded at daybreak above
Our eastern sea, the star that gathers light,
Even as we watch, beyond the hilly west,
The one that in the zenith at midnight
Shall the long lingering of our joy attest—
These are the beacons and the boundaries
Of life for us, the architects of To-day.
This is our realm, dear heart, its radiancies
The songs we weave, its winds the harps we play.
And ever it is ours: each time the night
Rolls from our path to let the morning in,
Not shall it come with unfamiliar light,
Not shall To-morrow but To-day begin.
Of life for us, the architects of To-day.
This is our realm, dear heart, its radiancies
The songs we weave, its winds the harps we play.
And ever it is ours: each time the night
Rolls from our path to let the morning in,
Not shall it come with unfamiliar light,
Not shall To-morrow but To-day begin.