...isn't this the way—We came in...

There rolls the deep where grew the tree.

⁠ O earth, what changes hast thou seen!

⁠There where the long street roars, hath been

The stillness of the central sea.

The hills are shadows, and they flow

⁠ From form to form, and nothing stands;

⁠They melt like mist, the solid lands,

Like clouds they shape themselves and go.

But in my spirit will I dwell,

⁠And dream my dream, and hold it true;

⁠For tho' my lips may breathe adieu,

I cannot think the thing farewell.