Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HAPPY LAND, by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE



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THE HAPPY LAND, by            
First Line: There is a land of rare realities
Last Line: A moment or a year.
Subject(s): Happiness; Love; Joy; Delight


THERE is a land of rare realities
Whose sunsets all are golden, and whose dawns
Are as the first white dawn that flashed
Upon a new-forged world. Its afternoons
Are silver-sandaled dreams of phantasy,
Its nights are deepened twilights, cool, and sweet
With some strange incense, and its moons
Unwearied from their climbing of the skies,
Reflect the splendor of that brighter clime
Which mortals ken in dreaming. Through the heart
Of this fair land, a river blue as austral skies
Murmurs a haunting song. Its stretch of shores
Is laid with marble whiter than its moons,
And on the snowy tiles the people come
At evening from their palaces which rise
In pearl succession back unto the brow
Of purple hills. And there, with chant and song,
Or liquid utterance in voices soft
These happiest of mortals walk and dream;
There is no striving, life goes idly by,
As idly as an aspen shakes its leaves;
They walk and rest and dream, they love
Better than people ever loved before;
It is the land wherein we all have been
A moment or a year.





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