The Inner Fields

The Inner Fields

There is a brighter ether than this blue
    Pretence of an enveloping heavenly vault,
    A deeper greenness than this laughing assault
Of emerald rapture pearled with tears of dew.
Immortal spaces of caerulean hue
    Are in our reach and fields without this fault
    Of drab brown earth and streams that never halt
In their deep murmur which white flowers strew

Floating like stars upon a strip of sky.
    This world behind is made of truer stuff
        Than the manufactured tissue of earth's grace.
There we can walk and see the gods go by
    And sip from Hebe's cup nectar enough
        To make for us heavenly limbs and deathless face.