A touch of far-off joy and power,

A something it is life to learn,

Comes back to earth, and one short hour

The glamours of the gods return.

This life's old mood and cult of care

Falls smitten by an older truth,

And the gray world wins back to her

The rapture of her vanished youth.

[11]

Dead thoughts revive, and he that heeds

Shall hear, as by a spirit led,

A song among the golden reeds:

"The gods are vanished but not dead!"

For one short hour; unseen yet near,

They haunt us, a forgotten mood,

A glory upon mead and mere,

A magic in the leafless wood.

At morning we shall catch the glow

Of Dian's quiver on the hill,

And somewhere in the glades I know

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