The Unnamed Lake and Other Poems

by Frederick George Scott


 

EOTHEN


THE immortal spirit hath no bars
    To circumscribe its dwelling place;
My soul hath pastured with the stars
    Upon the meadow-lands of space.

My mind and ear at times have caught,
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    From realms beyond our mortal reach,
The utterance of Eternal Thought,
    Of which all nature is the speech.

And high above the seas and lands,
    On peaks just tipped with morning light,
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My dauntless spirit mutely stands
     With eagle wings outspread for flight.