The land lies full, from brim to brim

The land lies full, from brim to brim
Of the great smoke-blue mountains' rim,
Of yellow autumn and red sun.
A giant in content, the day
Idles the solemn hours away
To dreamland one by one.

Life is the dominance of good,
And love the ecstasy of mood,
Your hand in my hand says to me.
Yet, somewhere in the waste between
Being and sense, I hear a threne
Wash like the dirging sea.