We look through gloom and storm-drift Beyond the years: The soul would have no rainbow Hard the eyes no tears.

The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears.

The soul would have no rainbow, had the eyes no tears.

I pour into the world the eternal streams Wan prophets tent beside, and dream their dreams.

No command of art, No toil, can help you hear; Earth's minstrelsy falls clear But on the listening heart.

Holding occasion by the hand, Not over nice 'twixt weed and flower, Waiving what none can understand, I make mine hour.