Classic Poem

Me in my tower the Voices called,
" Come down into the world! "
I went not, for my sight was walled
Only by hills: below me crawled
The dark town smoke-enfurled.

I answered, " Here the gods are near,
And here my life belongs. "
I turned to watch an eagle veer
Round a white peak; I heard the clear
Sweet, mountain shepherd-songs.

" All sing or soar, each mountain thing, "
I said, " and my heart, too,
Up from this earth to joy shall spring,
And I will learn to soar and sing
As I was made to do! "

But as I leaned to listen there
Above the multitude,
A sound like some familiar air,
Came thrilling upward, strangely fair,
From the dull human brood —

Up from the careworn city blown,
Up from that reeking ground —
High on my hills I ne'er had known
Such passionate and lovely tone
As echoed in that sound.

A soaring quality it had,
Yet earth-confined, like flame;
Compassionate, serene, and sad,
And partly hopeful, and half-glad,
Mingled, its measures came.

It waned. The Voices called once more,
" Turn from thy lofty place:
There shalt thou neither sing nor soar. "
Then down the stair, and out the door,
I turned, and went apace!