The Glittering Plain

Far, far away the Glittering Plain 
Lies over leagues of land and sea: 
The bow stands fair against the rain, 
And yet we cannot find the key 
Whereby at last we might attain 
Where Castle Heart's Delight may be. 

Land of the living, far away 
Your fields stand golden in the sun: 
The King smiles and the Folk are gay 
For youth renewed and sorrow done: 
And reapers gather in the hay 
Singing forth for joy of harvest won. 

Hallblithe, alas! moves not along 
The ways: nor Hostage o' the Rose: 
But hark, Erato leads the song 
And Love himself with laughter goes 
Midmost the maidens there that throng 
To pull the hawthorn whence it grows. 

Yet call us, call us once again, 
Land of the Living! sweet and strong 
Thy spell lies on us, heart and brain, 
Though in the night we grope, and long 
Must seek, or ere our eyes are fain 
Of flowers and fields no winters wrong.