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 shall find them one day."

Whether within or without me

They were, I cannot say.