By quick little journeys they follow and whistle.
Now a gossamer ship breaks away to the blue
(Who stands by the railing and waves adieu?)
All night it was moored to a thistle.
Who knows the glad business afoot on the by-way?
Who know the bold hopes sent adrift on the skyway?
Song’s Eternity
Into the song of the Poet are builded the things that endure:
The Pillars of Karnak will crumble but the song of Shelley is sure.
It will hold through the ages of ages, like the heavens steadied in air: