Heaven was not Heaven if Phaon was not there

Great thoughts, great feelings came to them, Like instincts, unawares.

But on and up, where Nature’s heart Beats strong amid the hills.

Oh glory, that we wrestle So valiantly with Time!

The hills of manhood wear a noble face When seen from far; The mist of light from which they take their grace Hides what they are.

The beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard.

A man’s best things are nearest him, Lie close about his feet.