VI.

I am gone from peopled town! It passeth its street-thunder round My body which yet hears no sound, For now another sound, another Vision, my soul's senses have-- O'er a hundred valleys deep Where the hills' green shadows sleep Scarce known because the valley-trees Cross those upland images, O'er a hundred hills each other Watching to the western wave, I have travelled,--I have found The silent, lone, remembered ground.