Bladed beauty's lifted urns; Woods all shadowed, cooling earth, Murmuring of a quiet mirth,[16] [16] Pour damp odours where they pass, Breath of fern and earth and grass ... Ramblers on a lichened wall, Ramblers, ramblers pouring all Colour that the world has known Out upon an aging stone.— Little towns of street and spire, Dooryard roses, heart's desire, Light a dream within the mind, Light a dream ... and fall behind. God of mercies—when I slept, World on world of summer kept Turning, turning softly by,— Summer earth and summer sky: Fields of summer that will be Summer always unto me—