Eudaemon

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916)

O happiness, I know not what far seas,

Blue hills and deep, thy sunny realms surround,

That thus in Music’s wistful harmonies

And concert of sweet sound

A rumor steals, from some uncertain shore,

Of lovely things outworn or gladness yet in store:

Whether thy beams be pitiful and come,

Across the sundering of vanished years,

From childhood and the happy fields of home,

Like eyes instinct with tears

Felt through green brakes of hedge and apple-bough

Round haunts delightful once, desert and silent now;

Or yet if prescience of unrealized love

Startle the breast with each melodious air,

And gifts that gentle hands are donors of

Still wait intact somewhere,

Furled up all golden in a perfumed place

Within the folded petals of forthcoming days.

Only forever, in the old unrest

Of winds and waters and the varying year,

A litany from islands of the blessed

Answers, Not here . . . not here!

And over the wide world that wandering cry

Shall lead my searching heart unsoothed until I die.

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• Robert Burns: My Lord A-Hunting: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Bonie Moor-Hen: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Prologue: Spoken by Mr. Woods on his benefit-night, Monday, 16th April, 1787 by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Verses Intended To Be Written Below A Noble Earl’s Picture: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epistle To Mrs. Scott: Gudewife of Wauchope-House, Roxburghshire. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Inscription For The Headstone Of Fergusson The Poet: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Extempore In The Court Of Session: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Bonie Dundee: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Rattlin’, Roarin’ Willie: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Mr. William Smellie -A Sketch: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: To Miss Logan, With Beattie’s Poems, For A New-Year’s Gift, Jan. 1, 1787: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Address To A Haggis: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Address To Edinburgh: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Yon Wild Mossy Mountains: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: A Winter Night : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On Sensibility: Fragment by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epistle To Major Logan: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Tam Samson’s Elegy: When this worthy old sportman went out, last muirfowl season, he supposed it was to be, in Ossian’s phrase, “the last of his fields,” and expressed an ardent wish to die and be buried in the muirs. On this hint the author composed his elegy and epitaph.-R.B., 1787. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Composed In Spring: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Inscribed On A Work Of Hannah More’s: Presented to the Author by a Lady. by Robert Burns

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