Somewhere afield here something lies br In Earth's oblivious eyeless trust br That moved a poet to prophecies - br A pinch of unseen, unguarded dust br br The dust of the lark that Shelley heard, br And made immortal through times to be; - br Though it only lived like another bird, br And knew not its immortality. br br Lived its meek life; then, one day, fell - br A little ball of feather and bone; br And how it perished, when piped farewell, br And where it wastes, are alike unknown. br br Maybe it rests in the loam I view, br Maybe it throbs in a myrtle's green, br Maybe it sleeps in the coming hue br Of a grape on the slopes of yon inland scene. br br Go find it, faeries, go and find br That tiny pinch of priceless dust, br And bring a casket silver-lined, br And framed of gold that gems encrust; br br And we will lay it safe therein, br And consecrate it to endless time; br For it inspired a bard to win br Ecstatic heights in thought and rhyme.