On star-roofed hill,
In the smudge of a hovels peaty smoke,
Or to wander afar in the path of the gleam
And visit the fairy-folk.
ut what of the poems that wait him within
The maze of my glamourous marshes of Glynn?
Here is the poet's own place
Where the salt creeks interlace,
Closed by the cloisters of vine and of oak
That chrismed the young barďs mouth
Whose spirit was clear to divine,
Whose breath was sweet to evoke,
The flute-notes, crystalline,
Which opened the song of the South.
lain heroes and homespun saviours of old,
P With the blood of your deep-hidden hearts of gold
Shall I mingle the soul of a land like you-
A land that can hide the solemn pride
Of earth-heavens under its grasses blue?
And with these shall I mix the bold airs of democracy,
That blow in the brotherly vale where East meets
West? ar beneath furrow and wold, FlStygian river and hill
Hid in the breast of Kentucky, unfold
To the eye alert and the steadfast will.
There is a city of wide-domed halls,
Colored and carved; the crusted walls
Bear frescos flushed with the alpenglow,
Bear statues kin to the sculpture agleam
In the halls of the blessèd when sculptors dream.
A temple of marble is there whose white-robed
Like choristers voicing a strain too rare
For the grosser ears of the world to share;
While the little blind waterfall's tremolo,
As it cheers the dim journey to Lethe's stream,
Startles the still oratorio.
Oreat-heart Kentucky, whose common crust
Holds for my children such splendors in trust,
Ere your sun be set shall you beget
Some child of as deep-hearted likeness to you
As ever the land of Jeanne d'Arc knew?
Or, in caverns of sleep more wild and deep
Than the path of a meteor's earthward leap,
Shall you rouse from his inter-vital rest
Some Barbarossa of the West?
Aye, Kentucky! And this were best,
That you fare but forward as you began
When you rocked on your gaunt and hollow breast
The deepest-hearted American."