The Boy

The Boy from his bedroom-window Look'd over the little town,

And away to the bleak black upland Under a clouded moon.

The moon came forth from her cavern,

He saw the sudden gleam Of a tarn in the swarthy moorland;

Or perhaps the whole was a dream.

For I never could find that water In all my walks and rides:

Far-off, in the Land of Memory,

That midnight pool abides.

Many fine things had I glimpse of,

And said, "I them one day."Whether within or without me They were,

I cannot say.